Connoisseurs' Guide to California Wine

Monday Manifestos
At Last—A Blog With Real Tasting Notes

Mon, 20 May 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

So, the other day I asked a person who sells wine—whose job it is to move boxes of wine—about this question: Do people want tasting notes or do they want stories?

Her answer came quickly and clearly and unequivocally: “Both”, spake she who should know. “The market is more turbulent and bifurcated than at any time during my career in the biz. We have always been able to sell our mid-priced ($20+) wines with good recommendations, and we can still sell wines more expensive than that with the endorsement of a recognized expert. Of course, if we cannot get a recognized expert, we used to be able to call out a Gold Medal or even our winemaker’s comments. We can’t do that anymore”.

Before I let her off the hook, I raised the question about what the Millennial generation wants. We hear so much talk about how they are different from older wine drinkers and how the traditions of the elders are totally disrespected. Forget tasting notes, we are told. The Millenials want stories. Forget “expert opinion”, we are told. They want the advice of their peers, and because they are so connected via social media, they will never follow the old patterns.

I have to admit that I was shocked by her reaction. She, who is a self-admitted “connector”; she who loves Facebook and Twitter; she who believes that she has cracked the Millenial code. She told me straight out. This latest generation truly wants to drink good wine. They are employed, and have disposable income, and their parents were wine drinkers so they are also wine drinkers. Sure, they like stories. We all like stories. But, while they are not subscribers to wine publications in big numbers, they seem to follow trends and they like being upscale.

Forget tasting notes? Nope, that is not how it works. But, subscriptions to traditional media. It is not working that way either. What this sales maven sees is a wholly different picture. Let’s call it “trickle down” guidance, because it still starts with expert opinion. The wine intelligence then gets spread via trendy restaurants and via social media. But, and this is the key point, the operative variable in the Millenial equation: they may not know about traditional tasting notes, but they are swayed by them nevertheless because they want the best and are willing to pay for it.

So, for those Millenials who need expertise, but do not yet get it directly, I hereby present tasting notes on wines that are Good Values. Let the word spread. Because the better you drink now, the better you will drink when you are no longer under thirty, when you get married and move to the suburbs, when you have a big dog and 2.2 kids who play soccer. Our sales friend may not quote tasting notes to you, but she is reaching you with expertise and visions of good wine just like wineries have done for generations before you.

87 CONN CREEK Herrick Red Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley 2009 $18.00
Distinctly varietal themes of ripe black cherries and currants are joined by a lesser note of dried herbs and a light, sweetening touch of caramel in the mid-density aromas and flavors of this wine, and, if not one for high extract or flashiness, it is a clean and eminently likeable effort that shows far better balance and crafting than its modest price might suggest.

91 STEMMLER Chardonnay Carneros 2011 $24.00
With both good volume and interesting bits of complex notes to its credit, this medium-full-bodied bottling shows up with more fruit and energy than the vintage reputation indicates. Its aromas feature decently ripe and lively fruit filled out by crème brulée and lightly caramelly oak and hints of roasted grains. Medium-full in body, slightly oily and so well-balanced, the wine does tighten up just a touch in the latter palate and finish as its youth and bright acids make their own statements. It has time on its side, and we would expect it to keep improving over the next one to three or four years and hold quite nicely beyond that.

89 THREE RIVERS Merlot Columbia Valley 2010 $19.00
Classically focused Merlot aromas of ripe red cherries, hints of rich herbs and caramel and milk chocolate notes that are common to Washington versions of the variety presage a full and rich wine on the palate. Lively in its fruit and mouthfilling in texture, this wine flirts with high ripeness but pulls back and instead keeps its focus on varietal character. Its moderate tannins will hold it in good stead for a half decade, and it is about as good as it gets in a Merlot for less than $20.00.

89 WHITE OAK Sauvignon Blanc Russian River Valley 2011 $17.00
Convincingly varietal without going too far and showing plenty of deep, nicely concentrated citrus, kiwi and green-melon fruit as a counterpoint to its freshening elements of grass and green tea, this carefully-balanced, medium-full-bodied Sauvignon gets good marks across the board. It ends with a lengthy, mineral-tinged finish, and, while quite tasty now, it has room for several years of very positive development.

89 TANGENT Paragon Vineyard Viognier Edna Valley 2011 $17.00
Stepping back several steps from its opulent and more highly ripened cousins, Tangent's lively look at Viognier shows a lean, slightly citrusy bent and is balanced to crispness. It hints quietly at the floral qualities of the grape and is marked by the slightest spritz on the palate, and it is certain to make a refreshing foil to a wide range of lighter seafoods ranging from crab cakes to sole.

91 BIG VINE Zinfandel Dry Creek Valley 2011 $20.00
From its deep and very well-defined fruit to its impressions of balance and winemaking polish, this is a Zinfandel that hits all the right marks. It is full but not heavy, very long on the palate and never once shows even an inkling of heat, and that it dares to check in with a comparatively modest $20.00 price tag only adds to its attractiveness. This is one that unrepentant fans of the grape will not want to miss, and its very careful construction suggests that it will keep despite being so very inviting today.

Meet the New CGCW

For thirty-five years, Connoisseurs’ Guide has been the authoritative voice of the California wine consumer. With readers in all fifty states and twenty foreign countries, the Guide is valued by wine lovers everywhere for its honesty and for it strong adherence to the principles of transparency, unbiased, hard-hitting opinions. Now, it is becoming the California winelover’s most powerful online voice as well. And, our new features provide an unmatched array of advice and information for aficionados of every stripe.

Thursday Thorns
The South Will Rise Again—Beware The Santa Rita Hills

Thu, 16 May 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

We spent a couple of hours this past Tuesday with members of the Sta. Rita Hills Winegrower’s Alliance in the unlikely setting of Santa Rosa. It seems that the Alliance took to the road with stops in San Francisco and then at host Adam Lee’s Siduri Winery in Sonoma to remind us northerners that some pretty serious stuff is being made in Santa Barbara County’s Sta. Rita Hills appellation and that California’s North Coast vineyards do not have a monopoly on quality.

As a quick primer for those who do not know, the Santa Rita Hills district has been producing fine Pinot Noirs and Chardonnays dating back to the late 1970s, but it is only in the last decade or so as the numbers of wineries and planted acres have been on the rise and the region has begun to garner widespread acclaim. The Santa Rita Hills district was not granted AVA status until 2001, and, after some legal wrangling to soothe the concerns of the large and apparently quite powerful Vina Santa Rita winery of Chile regarding perceived confusion in the international marketplace, the AVA name was formally changed to the Sta. Rita Hills in 2006.

The region is defined by two latitudinal corridors that open on the west end to the nearby Pacific Ocean, and the growing season is one of the coldest to be found in any California appellation; not exactly what you might expect given its southern location. Needless to say, it is cool-climate varieties that head the marquee, but the occasional outlier successfully pops up here and there.

We freed up a few days last summer and headed south for a much-overdue first-hand visit, and we must say we were impressed then as we were earlier this week with the vitality of the Sta. Rita Hills winemaking community, and the stuff in bottle was pretty good as well.

While tasting through a collection of tasty new releases from the likes of Longoria, Cargassachi, Zotovitch, Cold Heaven, Clos Pepe, and Siduri to name just a few of our favorites, the conversation inevitably turned to just what makes the region so special, and who ultimately benefits most from AVA naming in general.

The latter question, in particular, has taken on new gravitas lately as Pence Ranch Winery has petitioned to expand the boundaries of the appellation to the east. It has understandably met with a good deal of opposition from the Grower’s Alliance, but it begs the larger question of just how predictive any AVA really can be. Yes, the Sta. Rita Hills has a fairly uniform climate, but, as with most every AVA, exceptions abound. There are microclimates galore with varied soils and exposures that can play a profound role in differentiating one wine from another. We have tasted delicate Sta. Rita Hills wines of great finesse and restraint, and we have come across some alcoholic behemoths that challenge every expectation. There is, in fact, enough variation to be found here that, while that there are certain shared traits to many of the region’s wines, there is nothing so absolute that the curious consumer is afforded any real guarantees.

Now, I do not mean to wholly dismiss the value of the AVA system, and it is useful as far as providing at least a general, if somewhat fuzzy, outline of what to expect from this or that place, but I cannot but help wonder if AVA recognition is far more about serving wineries than, as one winemaker suggested, “protecting the consumer.” It is better than nothing, perhaps, but rarely, if ever, does an appellation name guarantee anything.

In the end, it is the combination of vineyard and vintner that defines just what and how good any wine really is. Sta. Rita Hills probably comes as close to a usefully predictive set of results as any AVA, and, if nothing else, this AVA designation has brought attention to a group of wineries whose products are increasingly being recognized for their inherent quality.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
The Heat Is On In Wine Country

Mon, 13 May 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

No, this is not another article about global warming and its effects on wine growing conditions in these parts. For, while that important topic is always in our thoughts, today we turn our attention to economic “heat”.

Back a few years ago, when wine sales were in the doldrums and there was more than enough fruit to go around, things got pretty quiet on the winery expansion front. But, this is 2013 and just this week, we have learned of several deals that look like they are the precursors of another wine boom.

Wine is, of course, an agricultural commodity at heart. The amount of it being produced is a direct function of the fruit-bearing plantings in wine country. When things get tight, as they might be in a year or two as the world works through seemingly niggardly harvests just as the world economy finally gets its act together, then vineyards get bought and sold, and the supply eventually expands. Since vines are not tomato plants and usually three to five years to come into meaningful production, wine has been subject to boom and bust swings because new supply always lags demand when demand expands.

Such is projected to be the case in the near future. And when consumption begins to outstrip supply, we see the kind of increased vineyard development that has been reported lately in the wine press. None is more interesting from an economic standpoint than the announcement of Kendall-Jackson’s purchase of vineyard land in Oregon. This happens to be already planted land, but when California’s largest holder of vineyard land begins to accumulate hundreds of acres up in Oregon, you know the heat is on.

Another interesting tidbit is the purchase of land in the southern reaches of the Sta. Rita Hills AVA. The partnership of Sashi Moorman and Rajat Paar, already working together on a successful Pinot Noir and Chardonnay project called Sandhi, have purchased a parcel in that very cool region, half of which is planted and the other half plantable.

Neither of these developments is cause for alarm, and their impacts are certainly some years away, but they remind us of the wine industry cycle and that we are in the ascending phase of the cycle. For, while it is true that 2012 did not see a wave of new plantings, there is every reason to believe that 2013 will be more enthusiastically greeted by vineyardists.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Looking Behind The Remarkable Resurgence In Petite Sirah

Fri, 10 May 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

It does not get a great deal of play in the press and is all but ignored by the legions of bloggers who are quick to tell us about the lighter, lower-alcohol wines that the millennial generation really wants, but Petite Sirah is clearly finding new popularity in the world of real wine drinkers. We think we know why.

Now, we admit that there was time when we simply turned our backs on what was an opaque, crudely tannic, tooth-staining bunch, and years went by without Petite Sirah working its way into our reviews. Most were unruly brutes and impressed as wines best approached with a gun, a whip and a chair much as one would with a large and easily irritated carnivore. We have, however, been struck by both the number and the quality of the Petites coming our way over the past several years, and as we begin tasting new releases for our July issue, our shelves are starting to groan under the weight of a host of recently arrived bottlings. We have work to do.

It appears that what is going on is far more than a resurgence. It is an entirely new movement with an ethos all its own. It is driven in part by better winemaking and a new sensibility of the winemakers who seek more than color and sinew. They are clearly beginning to tame the grape without losing its unique varietal voice, and we have seen more than few that are serious offerings of real richness and range. Much of Petite Sirah’s new success can be traced to the tireless efforts of such promotional organizations as P.S I Love You, but however much you promote, success is never secured by slogans alone. The message needs to be backed up by substance, and it is there that new Petite shines.

What is most striking to me is that there clearly seems to be an enthusiastic and thriving market for Petite in a time when the popular press so regularly touts smaller as better. There seems to be a great many folks who have not gotten the word. Or, maybe, just maybe, there are plenty of people who actually like gutsy, powerful red wines and do not give a hoot about low-alcohol, high acid and subtle nuance. Good for them. They pursue flavor first and foremost, and therein lies Petite Sirah’s greatest gift. There are times and settings where I want wines of refinement, but there are others when nothing less than unbridled power and strength will do, and, when the urge hits, I know that Petite Sirahs from the likes Frank Family, Stanton, Ridge, JC Cellars and Retro, to name but a few, are certain to please.

I do not claim to be a dyed-in-the-wool convert, and I am not close to becoming an uncritical, unblinking evangelist for the grape, but there are enough interesting Petites that I find myself approaching our upcoming tastings with something perilously close to excited anticipation rather than the looming dread I remember once feeling.

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thorns
Now He Likes The 100-Point System

Thu, 09 May 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

A very smart winemaker, who has been a critic of the 100-point system of wine ratings, has suddenly changed his mind and begun to praise it. A cynic might say it was because he got a slew of good scores from folks whose opinions matter to their readership. He sees it differently, and his comments on the Steve Heimoff blog started a robust conversation between the two of us. First, his comments, and then my response about why he got it right for all the wrong reasons. If you want to know who “he” is, wander over to the Heimoff blog. I am not mentioning his name, because this is not a personal issue but a philosophical difference, and one that I hold more strongly than he does.

He says, “as a long-time sceptic (sic) of the 100-point scale, I was rather impressed that leading wine publications all gave our 2010 pinot noir the exact same score.”

I responded, “And, what does that tell you?

Does it tell you (cynically) that all reviewers are alike?

Does it tell you that the 100-point system has magically become man’s best expression of wine quality?

Does it tell you that you no longer need to read the words of those reviews? I would be much more impressed if the organoleptic analyses in those reviews were the same rather than the scores.

I will tell you what it tells me. It tells me that expertise in wine evaluation is important. It tells me nothing about the value of the 100-point system because that system is nothing more than a shorthand expression of the more detailed findings expressed in the written part of the reviews.

And, frankly, and I apologize for sounding critical and cranky, but your comment tells me that the trees and the forest are being confused. Your comment suggests that the 100-point system is reality, when it is no such thing. It is only a snippet of reality–a shorthand for a qualitative conclusion and absolutely useless absent the words that folks like Heimoff, Parker, Laube, CGCW pen with great care. The truth is in the words, not in the numbers.

So, apologies again—as I have read your commentaries here and elsewhere and have appreciated your insights. I just do not get this one. BTW, I use the 100-point system because it does not hurt my opinions to append a notational shorthand to them.”

I am not an unquestioning fan of the 100-point system, perhaps I like our tried and true, three-star system better. But, I accept that the 100-point system has become the lingua franca of wine reviews. That is why we all use it. It does not give the answers, and I am surprised that my young winemaker friend would have disliked it so intensely and then changed his mind because a group of critics liked his wines and agreed on the ratings.

We should use rating systems for what they are worth. Consumer Reports scores are very helpful when the Olkens go out to make major purchases, but we do not necessarily buy the highest rated item. We read the commentary and make our choice based on our sense of how one product suits us versus another. We were happy consumers of Siskel and Ebert and their rating system, but two thumbs up was not the be all and end all for us in choosing movies to watch. The only way to make sense of critical analysis is to read the words. If you don’t, you won’t know the difference between a ripe, dramatic Pinot Noir and an elegant, refined version. And neither will my young winemaker friend.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Wine Bloggers Are Talking To Themselves

Mon, 06 May 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I am about to commit heresy right here in the CGCW blog. It won’t be the first time, and it probably will not be the last, but it is necessary to set the record straight. I have found out something about wine blogs, and it pains me to admit it.

We are talking to ourselves.

Now, don’t go and get all huffy, because I don’t mean that no one is reading our wonderful words, our Monday Manifestos, Wednesday Warblings and everything that comes in between, before and after. You, dear readers, are the reason we continue this blog in spite of the fact that it is not what we thought we had bargained for.

You see, we thought, in our infinite wisdom, that there was an enormous, like tens and tens of thousands, of hungry wine enthusiasts searching the internet for nuggets of wisdom. And, we therefore presumed that our pearls, our keen insights were going to attract those tens of thousands of unrequited wine word readers. Turns out that it is not so.

We get a nice, tidy readership every day, and we sometimes get comments—which we enjoy. But the readership, and especially the commenters, here and on virtually every other wine blog is pretty thin relative to what some folks would have the world believe. And while the several thousand folks who come by once in a while are very much appreciated, the folks who keep the comments section going are few and far between.

And they are mostly other bloggers and wine industry professionals. A few very active collectors also comment, but not nearly as many as we had thought might. The same situation applies elsewhere as well. Now, we do not mind talking to friends and meeting new friends. And some of the more specific wine technical discussions here have been deep and intense. We did think that we might try to go down that path on a regular basis, but it turns out that the winemakers are pretty busy, and just when you think that some of the more frequent posters are going to jump in and really liven up the party, it turns out that they are too busy making wine or out on the road selling it.

And when you get right down to it, it is the same people commenting. The common wisdom is that a blog is a wonderful tool with which to interact with a broad part of the wine community.

Nope, we are talking to ourselves, and the only reason why that is good is that communication in any form is way better than isolation. For that is what is going on here and on other blogs. There is a community that has formed, and we can talk back and forth for months and years without ever having laid eyes on each other.

It works. Last week, Steve and I ventured down to Paso Robles for their Cabernet Sauvignon get together. And there, sitting in the lobby, was another writer who was introduced to me, and we both lit up with big smiles-—because we are part of each other’s broad community and have been for some time now but had never met. He is part of the “ourselves”, and he and lots more like him are the folks to which wine blogs talk.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
New News Makes The Vinous World Go ‘Round

Fri, 03 May 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

During dinner on the first night of last week’s trip to Paso Robles wine country, Charlie and I were asked a question that we have heard more than once before. “How do you keep doing it? How do you manage to continue to write with authority and enthusiasm after so many wines and so many years?” This time it came from the sales director of one of our favorite local wineries. It turned out that he is a long-time subscriber who is well-versed in the ways of CGCW, and one whose familiarity with our work predates by many years his involvement with a winery about which we regularly say nice things. The point is that his question was one of intent, not simply a social nicety or fodder for dinner conversation, and it deserved more than the usual pat answer, except for the fact that the simple pat answer is true.

Now, I do not deny that as one who tastes professionally four or five days a week there are days when I would prefer not to look at another glass of wine. There are nights when an icy Martini is my tipple of choice and afternoons when a Diet Coke looks better to me than one more Cabernet, but such moments of weakness are thankfully few.

Yes, we do taste many thousands of wines every year, and there are moments when enough is enough, but they come and go almost unnoticed. We actually like what we do, and there is so much more to what we do than simply tasting wine and scribbling notes. The imperatives of “new” are not limited to pulling the corks on newly released bottles. We do not have to manufacture enthusiasm because there is always something new and exciting in our world.

It is often said that fine wine is born of a unique marriage of science and art, and neither are, by nature, static. New wineries, new ideas about where and what should be grown, new winemaking techniques and, of course, new vintages make for a constantly changing vinous landscape that for us remains as fascinating today as it was at the beginning. Even in the theoretical and wholly impossible circumstance of knowing all there is to know about wine today, there will be thousands and thousands of new wines to consider with the next harvest and the one after that. How then can we or any dyed-in-the-wool lover of wine possibly get bored?

As things turned out, our weekend in Paso Robles gave my Friday night “pat answer” new validation. There are serious things going on in Northern San Luis Obispo County. Paso Robles Cabernet Sauvignon is getting a new look and proving its worth with recent releases from the likes of Daou, L’Aventure, Jada, and Sextant, and the appellation’s roster of important producers who embrace Rhône varietals is expanding as names like Denner, Epoch, Booker and Alta Collina have emerged.

During our visit, we attended a brief seminar on local Cabernet Sauvignon that closed with the comment that “you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” While we do not doubt the potential for Cabernet success thereabouts, we found inspiration and excitement on more fronts than one and cannot wait to see what awaits with any number of varietals, both red and white.

One thing for sure…we will be back before long.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Travels With Charlie: Paso Robles

Wed, 01 May 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Ventured down to Paso (that’s what the locals call it) last weekend, with Steve Eliot in tow, for the area’s big Cabernet Sauvignon roundup. Much like Kansas City, Paso is now seriously up to date with its particular collection of new restaurants, new wineries, a whole new energy worth knowing about. Rather than make this column into some sort of latter day travelogue, I hope you will let me simply chat about what I saw and learned and liked in whatever random order those thoughts arise.

• I have always disliked the notion that we, the chattering class, feel the need to compare everything to the Napa Valley. It is a bit like comparing every new car to the top of the line Mercedes or Bentley. Napa is Napa with all of its strengths and over the top weaknesses. No place else needs to be Napa.

• Paso Robles, the City of El Paso de Robles to be precise, is a half sleepy, small town in the middle of agriculture country. One needs to go off the main road to the coast, or a hundred miles north or south to find “city” writ large. Or to put it another way, it amazes me that people with urban routes would choose to live there. But, because they do, and because Paso and environs can support a wine industry, there is a continuing influx of outsiders who are enriching the place with their own brand of culture even as they become integrated into the lifestyle there.

• Paso Robles, as a recognized appellation, or AVA, is quite large; it could fit both Napa and Sonoma within its borders. It is also hot and dry, but all wine country is hot in varying degrees or it would not be wine country. You won’t find much by way of cold-loving varieties in the AVA. It is a place for fuller bodied reds and for Rhone whites. And, while Paso is finding increasing success with its Bordelais varieties, many of which have shown very well of late, those varieties are still a work in progress at the highest end of the success scale.

• Even now, and stretching back for several decades, or more if tales of pre-Prohibition wines are to be included in the conversion, Paso Robles has demonstrated great potential and, lately, has seen plenty of success with bold powerful Rhone reds and big, sometimes powerful and sometimes more mannerly but rarely smaller or restrained versions of Cabernet Sauvignon.

• During our visit, we must have been told ten times if we were told once that Paso in no warmer than Calistoga. There seems to be some sort of scientifically measured reasons for this claim, and I have no reason to dispute it. But, to date, the wines are seemingly riper to taste even if not riper in total alcohol terms. In the red Rhones, this is simply no problem for a large portion of the fans of those grapes. That is why producers like Saxum and Sine Qua Non have become true cult wines¸ and while new, small wineries like Denner and Epoch, to name two we visited and liked very much can sell their Syrahs for fifty and sixty dollars.

• The sheer size of the Paso Robles AVA means that there are widely varying growing conditions. The simple answer to that problem is to further subdivide the AVA just as the Napa Valley has been subdivided. But, how to do it? Therein lies the rub. Folks in Paso now believe that the answer it at hand and expect the “authorities” to approve a much-discussed plan to create almost a dozen smaller, overlying winegrowing areas. Fingers crossed because Paso is subdividing on its own as vintners choose where they want to be based on results and not just on speculation.

• One of the places to be is west of Highway 101. That area is arguably cooler than the more eastern-lying places and offers hillside locations at a variety of altitudes. Near the upper reaches of these “westside” growing areas are now found a number of very special wineries whose names (Epoch, Denner, Jada, Proulx, Adelaida, Daou, Hammersky to name the ones that come to mind at this moment) have already gained widespread fame or are about to.

• Over on the other side of the highway, with wineries like Eberle, Vina Robles, Robert Hall, there are higher volume producers. One only needs to remember how many Good Values have come from these folks to realize that the world needs them as well.

• There are some great wine roads in this world. To that list, please add Vineyard Drive. Not only is it a wonderfully scenic road in the westside hills, with its growing list of successful producers, but it is still largely unspoiled country. If you are looking for something new to do on your wine discovery weekends, Paso is worth the effort to get there, and while you cannot go without exploring both east and west, for us, the tour of Vineyard Drive not to be missed.

• Paso, in part because of the wine touring, and in part because it is becoming a place for folks to get away from the fast-paced city life, is gaining in sophistication. We found the culinary scene there to be quite lively and will be pleased to return to Artisan (a true favorite), Bistro Laurent and Thomas Hill Organics, all of which would be at home almost anywhere.

We went down to Paso Robles to catch up with the progress there. We have come away excited as we watched the continued emergence and maturation of yet another center of fine wine production.

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thorns
How To Know When Your Wine Has Too Much Oak—Part 2

Thu, 25 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

If a little of something is good, then a lot of it must be better. If you ask my granddaughter if she wants a cupcake, she will answer with enthusiasm. If you ask her if she wants two cupcakes, she will offer to become your best friend forever.

There was a time when Chardonnay in California was in no danger of having too much oak. That is because we did not use all that much oak in our wines. But then things changed. A new generation of winemakers realized that our wines were stuffy and stale compared to those of Europe. Blame fell in all directions—too much time in big redwood tanks, a total lack of temperature control in making our wines, the virtual non-use of small and relative new oak barrels in aging, the total non-existence of oak barrels from France where the oak has different characteristics.

Of course, it must be said that we also had very little Chardonnay back in the day and that if one looks back only a generation or two ago, one finds that California wine in general was still suffering from a lack of serious attention in most quarters. In the Post-Prohibition world, it was not table wine that led us back to the vinous world but higher alcohol fortified wines. Indeed, it was not until 1968 that table wine production even caught up with dessert wine production.

That we did not use oak, particularly new French oak, is therefore not so surprising despite a few outliers like James Zellerback who founded Hanzell in the hills above the Sonoma Valley. During the 1960s, things began to change, driven mostly by a new generation of winemakers whose worldly experiences told them that California could do better. Pioneers like Joe Heitz, Brad Webb, Paul Draper, Dick Graff were soon joined by folks like Warren Winiarski, Donn Chappellet and others and California viniculture changed for good.

Along the way, we discovered oak, and the winedrinking public rose up and cheered. Chardonnay, which is a perfectly fine grape without oak, turns out to be a far better one when winemaking techniques like barrels and malolactic fermentation and the like are applied to it. And, under the theory that two cupcakes are better than one, Chardonnay got pushed about as far as it could without losing all reference to vinosity.

That excess, that “let’s find the limits” attitude gave rise to the ABC (Anything But Chardonnay) movement. And ultimately, there has now arisen a call, indeed a demand from the next generation of drinkers that Chardonnay taste not like oak or butter or popcorn but of pure fruit. Chardonnay can do that. It has plenty of fruit. But, it does still like a little winemaking and that is today’s battleground.

How much oak is too much? A fellow winewriter recently offered this comment, “When it tastes like anything but wine”. One might agree with that comment on the surface, but the comment is far too generic for my taste, and, in truth, in our back and forth repartee, we did push further into the topic.

Ultimately, however, we found ourselves falling back on clichés and the real answer turns out to be that too much oak is a learned response based on experience and current thinking. Too much oak in the 1980s and 1990s was “lots of new oak”, “double oaking” and the like. Too much oak today runs all the way to “if I can taste it, it is too much”. And never mind those glorious Leflaive hyphenated Montrachets.

These things happen. There are trends and fads and new generations with their own sensibilities. Wine has very few absolutes. But the real arbiters about too much oak are you, the wine drinkers. And what was the right amount of oak ten and twenty years ago may not be the right amount of oak today. There are even days when my granddaughter thinks two cupcakes is one too many.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
The Solution To Bad Wines By The Glass

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

My enthusiasm for restaurant wine-by-the-glass programs has been on the wane these days. Not that there are not well-chosen wines to be had, and some do afford reasonable value, but for every satisfying discovery I seem to make, I find at least as many disappointments. The ratio of hits to misses has not been good.

Too many by-the-glass offerings are simply too expensive for what they are; mediocre wines that are priced at ridiculously high mark ups, and I cannot count the times that I have been served a lifeless glass of something poured from a bottle I am sure has been open for days. If I want something of quality and character, I am far more likely to select a half-bottle when that option exists, but a reasonable selection of wines in half-bottles is not frequently found.

The problem, is that not every one of our restaurant outings is about high cuisine and “serious” wine, and more often than not what I want from a glass is something fresh, straightforward and tasty with which to wash down simple fare. I am beginning to believe that there just might be an answer, or at least the potential for one.

Restaurant service of wines on tap is far from new. I remember the bad old days when industrial red and industrial white from the likes of Anheuser Busch were what wine on tap was all about, but things have assuredly changed. Over the last several years, more and more restaurants have partnered with more and more wineries to offer wine by the glass drawn from small kegs holding 20 liters or so.

Now, it’s like anything else…quality will always tell. A keg will not make a bad wine any more palatable. The stuff inside needs to be good, but the number of well-made keg selections is clearly on the rise. Kegs cut down on the costs of packaging and shipping, and smart restaurateurs will be quick to pass the saving on to their customers. They are environmentally responsible in that they eliminate a good deal of glass, most significantly to me, the wines dispensed from kegs will remain fresh and pristine for many days if not weeks.

Just the other night, we checked out a promising new East Bay restaurant, Tribune Tavern in downtown Oakland, and right at the top of the wine list were ten selections listed under the heading “Grapes by Tap”. I might argue that several were a bit pricey, but we opted for a half-liter carafe of the 2012 Boat Dock Rosé of Sangiovese for a very reasonable $14.00 that hit the mark smartly with our crowded table of interesting small plates. Great wine? No, but very good, very fresh and very alive, and it was just as it should be.

I have been aware of the quietly increasing numbers of artisan wines available on tap, but I confess that I rarely try them. Our modest, but ever-so-tasty Sangiovese Rosé got my attention and set me to thinking about the important niche well-made wines on tap can fill.

I guess I have little choice other than to try a good many more.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Good Points on Other Blogs

Wed, 17 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

By some estimates, there are over 1,000 wine blogs. I try to read most of them every day, but, sad to say, I am an abject failure in that pursuit. Not only do I like my words better than most blogs, but it takes time to compose my words and so I am usually limited to the half dozen blogs that I read regularly and the half dozen that I read once in a while.

Yesterday was no exception. I looked around, dug into several, looked at the first couple of paragraphs of others and went on my merry way, but did also get involved in conversations on two topics that struck me as particularly inviting.

Over on STEVE HEIMOFF, the eponymous blog of Steve Heimoff, the topic was the greening of Grenache Blanc. It was not so long ago that we saw no Grenache Blancs of any kind in California. Now, with all the attention being paid to the grape, you would think we were awash in them and that the grape was about to emerge as the next big thing. But, with only a couple of hundred acres planted and just a few years of experience under our belts, I think we might be rushing the gun a bit—and said so.

Here are my comments on the topic. And, incidentally, CGCW has begun tasting through every sample we can get our hands on, so the topic is on our minds as well.

“Nice thoughts–although possibly a bit premature in the sense that it is only in the last couple of years that makers like Tangent, Zaca Mesa and others are beginning to capture the crisper side of the variety while maintaining its beautiful aromatics.

The key, and this is also part of my thinking that you are slightly jumping the gun, is to find not just aromatics and brightness but also more depth, bottom and finish. Grenache Blanc can be made brisk and bright, and there is nothing wrong with that, but that has not been its métier in the past, and it would seem that we still have not seen the best that the variety can do.

I like brisk and aromatic, and I see the analogies to some of the better Pinot Gris, but Grenache Blanc has so much more to offer. It is still early days and it may take a more complete version of the grape before it becomes the next big thing.

Not so much disagreeing. Just sayin’.”

Another blog that got me to thinking and commenting yesterday was Tom Wark’s Fermentation. Mr. Wark is far less famous than Mr. Heimoff because he is not a published winewriter but a public relations consultant with a viewpoint, or should I say, several and multiple viewpoints. Mr. Wark has occasionally been referred to as the “Grandfather of Wine Blogs” and certainly has championed this new art form both as a blogger and as one of wine bloggings most important voices.

Yesterday, he wrote a partially tongue-in-cheek article about wine descriptions in which he sort of agreed with the notion that most published wine descriptions are exercises in pomposity, verbosity and pretentionocity. I say “partially” because Mr. Wark ultimately comes to the conclusion that pompous wine reviews are just what the geeks, the collectors want, and, as such, there is nothing wrong with them. Well, as you might imagine, I politely disagreed.

Here is, if I may say so, my well-reasoned response to Mr. Wark. Admittedly, it was not nearly as tongue-in-cheek as his original, but, then again, his note also had a touch of criticism of the entire tasting note genre to it, and so a response was necessary in any event.

“I would suggest that great wine descriptions can soar without being pretentious and pompous on the one hand and plain and pedestrian on the other.

A good wine description–one that describes a wine worthy of soaring prose–does also need to describe the wine. If a description fails that test, then the rest of the tasting note is not worth a tinker’s dam.

The notion that different audiences deserve/need different types of descriptions is certainly true as well, yet it is hard to see how pretense and pomposity by themselves serve any audience.

The late, great Leigh Knowles, the head of Beaulieu in its heyday, used to make fun of the “prismatic luminescence” school of winewriting. He was right then, and his sentiments about pompous, overwrought rhetoric still ring true today.”

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Unoaked Chardonnay Gains A Foothold

Mon, 15 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I am beginning to think that unoaked Chardonnay just might be here to stay. What is more surprising to me is that I think that it is okay…both unoaked Chardonnay, that is, and the fact that it seems to have found a secure little niche for itself in the market.

No, I am not talking about the remarkable wines of Chablis – and make no mistake, there are many that are not -- or the daily quaffs of Mâcon and the various Italian versions from Friuli, Alto Adige and points north. No, I mean the considerable collection of those from up and down our own west coast, from Santa Barbara to the Columbia Valley. A collection, by the way, that is both expanding and improving.

I confess that I have been very slow to warm to our home-grown versions, and I would argue that the change of late has been more with the wines than with me. I have never been entirely comfortable with claims that Chardonnay is inherently a neutral, near-characterless grape, but it would be hard to refute the notion based on most early versions, and far too many, especially those bottled with screw caps, suffered from dissuasive levels of sulphites. As is the case with most anything, however, a little empirical knowledge can go a long way. Practice will always make better if not perfect, and winemakers who are playing with malo-lactic fermentation and extended lees-stirring are finding new and interesting Chardonnay expressions that are wholly unreliant on oak.

I was never and still am not entirely certain of what began the trend for unoaked Chardonnay here in California and the Pacific Northwest. Perhaps there is just too much of the stuff, and, with the exegencies of leaner economic times, it simply made sense to ferment it in steel tanks, bottle it up and get rid of it as fast as you could. The thought certainly occurred to me more than once upon tasting this or that new version. On the other hand, maybe the number of unoaked Chardonnays began to reach critical mass due to the dictates of fashion and the unrelenting need for the new. Truth be told, I expect that there is no one simple cause.

While a handful of apostles of unoaked Chardonnay have been anointed by some as visionaries and the vanguard of a true revolution, it strikes me that the seeming success of unoaked Chardonnay is not due to limited-production, hard-to-find wines. No, quite to the contrary, it is affordable and accessible wines that explain unoaked Chardonnay’s popular rise. Unoaked Chardonnay, it seems to me, is not about connoisseurship as much as it is about simple pleasure and ease.

Now, I am not about to give up my complex Côtes de Beaune whites or my rich, wonderfully deep, barrel-fermented favorites from Sonoma, Napa, Mendocino, Monterey or the Central Coast, but I admit that I have thawed a bit when it comes to the unoaked stuff. You might even find me find me enjoying a glass or two on a warm afternoon as Summer draws near.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Where Will I Move To Next?

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Lord knows that the “word” is not good for California. Up to 73% of our vineyard land will be lost in the next several decades. That is a big worry. I came to California for its climate and its natural beauty. Where will I go if the place dries up, heats up and becomes Phoenix By The Bay?

I am caught between a rock and a hard place on this one. On the one hand, I do believe that the earth is heating up. We can leave causality aside for the purposes of this conversation because I have done my share to stop the seemingly inevitable and I have failed. On the other, I do wonder how much damage is going to be done if we average two or three degree days on the warmer days in the middle of summer. So far, at least, we are not all that warmer at the margins as the preponderance of cool vintages in the last half decade would seem to show. Do I stay or do I go? If Calistoga and Healdsburg are too hot for Cabernet, will Carneros and the Sonoma Coast become right up the Cabernet alley? How about the farmlands in northern Monterey and along the San Mateo coast? They are pretty good for artichokes and lettuce. Is Merlot in their future?

So, it may be getting onto time to move. But where? And I am not alone in needing to pick up sticks and move on. My good friend, Cabernet Sauvignon had better get out of Dodge as well.

The same brilliant analysis that predicts the absolute collapse of our benign, ocean-cooled surroundings also predicts that the mountains in the very northern end of California will become incredibly hospitable by 2050. Do I really want to live on Mount Shasta?

Okay, so now I am going to say it. I am not a climate change denier, but neither am I given to believing the most dire of predictions that my bay front home is about to have the climate of Tampa. And I advise that you too take a step back after reading that we are doomed and think about what has happened to wine in the last three decades. The answer is that it has gotten better, but mostly because farming practices are much improved. Maybe it is warmer, but maybe also we know how to mitigate the climate with trellising, leaf shading, row orientation, crop load and the like.

And if the worst does come to pass and forty years from now, things are vastly different, it will be my kids and grandkids that have to move on—just as I did when I came west so many years ago. And the wine grapes will move as well. It will all be gradual and will happen. Even if we lose existing acreage, there will be new lands to take its place. Wine and mankind will survive.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Coombsville-—The Road Less Frequently Travelled

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

The need for “new” drives the wheels of journalism, and it is particularly true for those of us in the wine writing game. New vintages and bottlings, new wineries, new sensibilities and techniques in the crafting of wine, and, upon happy occasion, a new place or two…these are the grist for the wine writer’s mill.

“New” can and often does become an obsession. If nothing noteworthy is new, then it must be invented. Fashion and fad seem to demand it. Sometimes, however, when you look past the gloss and the glitter of the latest new thing, you find that it is not quite so new after all.

A couple of days back, we spent the afternoon at Grgich Hills Winery celebrating the ninetieth birthday of legendary winemaker Mike Grgich. On the way back home, we decided to take a detour from our usual route and visit a few folks in Coombsville, a less-visited valley of vines tucked away in Napa Valley’s southeastern corner to the east and just over the low hills from Napa City.

Coombsville is the newest legally recognized sub-AVA of the Napa Valley having been granted AVA status just over a year ago, and, as attentive followers of the California wine scene are aware, it is lately getting it’s a bit of the buzz when the topic turns to what’s new.

Serious winemaking in Coombsville does not come with a history as long as that of its northerly neighbors such as Yountville and Rutherford, but it has been quietly cultivating vineyards and making seriously good wines for more than thirty years under the watchful eyes of people like Bill Cadman, John Caldwell and Tom Farrella. More recently, notable wineries such as Arrow and Branch, Meteor, Ackerman, Ancien and Sodaro have made Coombsville home, and a good many top-flight, up-valley producers including Robert Mondavi, Merryvale, Pahlmeyer, Far Niente and Lail, to name but a few, have looked to Coombsville for premium fruit. The point is that the place in not so “new” when you look a bit deeper, but there is unquestionably an air of discovery surrounding it just now, and, with its new AVA status and a newly formed association of vintners and growers, we can expect to see and hear more about the goings on in Coombsville.

The story here is one of a comparatively cool climate, described in terms of heat summation and fitting somewhere between Carneros and Napa Valley’s southerly Oak Knoll District, and unique geology owing to volcanic deposits from nearby Mt. George. The appellation is a distinct and separate bowl-shaped entity due east of the town of Napa whose eastern hills and open west end make it subject to San Pablo Bay breezes and cooling fog. We cannot honestly say that we have yet seen a distinct and universal aspect of terroir in each of its wines, but the area’s temperate climes do predict wines of structure as opposed to those of runaway ripeness. A point, in fact, very much demonstrated by the remarkable, exceptionally well-balanced 1995 Farella Cabernet Sauvignon that highlighted our conversation with its maker and kept it going far longer than we had planned.

There is a good deal to yet learn about the place, and we have many questions to ask. How are the hillside vineyards different from those on the flats? Where do soils change and to what effect? What role does aspect and exposure ultimately play in the district’s wines? Is there, in fact, some singular personality twist that ties all of its wines together?

For us, the conversation has just started. Coombsville may be off the beaten path, but it is a road that is about to be far more frequently travelled.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
In Honor of Mike Grgich

Mon, 08 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I am headed up to wine country in a few minutes to attend a small birthday party for Mike Grgich at the winery that bears his name, Grgich Hills. Mike is rounding into his 91st year, which means, of course, that we will gather to celebrate his 90th birthday.

The party itself is not really the story here, and while this column has no intention of a becoming a full biographical sketch, it does intend to look at some very special things that Mike accomplished. You probably know the big picture here, and if you don’t, you can bet the wine pages this week will be able to fill you in.

My fascination with Mike Grgich is not that he authored a great wine that won a famous tasting in Paris. That story has been told and told and told, and while it is one of those wonderful watershed moments in the history of California wine and in the history of Chardonnay itself, I reference it here for its role in creating the legend of Mike Grgich. Without that particularly fateful event, Mike Grgich would still be a great winemaker, and, indeed, already was a great winemaker. That event, however, was no random accident.

We associate Mr. Grgich with the Napa Valley. Yet that winning wine was from the Russian River Valley long before we knew that the area would make superb wines with Burgundian grapes. In the early 1970s, Chardonnay was still mostly the province of the Napa Valley proper, and yet here was a wine, crafted by genius from grapes whose provenance was virtually unheard of at the time. The wine, of course, bore the Chateau Montelena label and that winery, regardless of how good its wines may have been over time, was able to build on the success that Mike Grgich brought them with grapes that he knew had good acidity and well-focused fruit. That, my friends, is genius.

It is also the reason why Austin Hills, heir to the Hills Coffee fortune, went into business with Mr. Grgich and put the Grgich name on the winery. That is the second part of the legend. We certainly know of wineries that bear the name of the owner, and it does not matter whether that owner is the moneyed creator like a Garen Staglin or a D. R. Stevens or Cliff Lede or whether that owner is a winemaker who found a way to build his own brand like a Joe Heitz or a Paul Hobbs or a Rick Longoria. There may be another winery somewhere in which the creation took on the name of the winemaker as a way of honoring that person’s genius, but, if so, those honors are few and far between.

I like to think of Mike Grgich not for those first two examples of genius in action and genius uniquely recognized. It is the wine of Mr. Grgich that intrigues me the most. To be sure, working at a medium-sized winery makes demands on production that do not always result in brilliance. I am not so concerned with that as I am with the incredible wines that come with the kind of inner beauty and balance that they have lived for years past what we might expect of them if measured by their peers.

We have, at Connoisseurs’ Guide, conducted tastings of well-aged wines across the nearly four decades of our existence. We proved early on that California Cabernet would age brilliantly despite the skepticism that greeted the emerging new brands in the late 60s like Heitz, Ridge, Chappellet and others. That knowledge is now common wisdom shared by all except those who think Cabernet begins and ends in Bordeaux. It was not until we had been able to study well-aged Sauvignon Blanc and Zinfandel that we begin to realize the genius at work in the wines crafted by Mr. Grgich. When his versions of those varieties began outliving their peers, it was clear that he knew something that most others did not.

The legend of Mike Grgich is broad and dotted with far more success than I have mentioned here, but I and CGCW will long remark on his accomplishments that extend the beyond the obvious. For it is not in the winning of one tasting that genius is measured but in the many, varied and important contributions that have helped shape the California wine industry as we know it. For those reasons, we are delighted to stand with those who will gather today to honor Mr. Grgich.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Good Cab Is Easy To Find; Priceworthy Cab Is A Rarer Bird

Fri, 05 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot and Charles Olken

Good, very good, Cabernet Sauvignon is not hard to find these days even in less-than-ideal vintages. We have tasted our ways through hundreds new Cabernets over the last several months, and that simple reality is impossible to miss. The problem, of course, is that the better bottlings come at considerable cost and are increasingly wines that are for occasional drinking at best.

There is no question but that finding good ones for twenty-dollars or less is a difficult task to say the least, but it is not an impossible one. We were several times pleasantly surprised upon unveiling the wines tasted at the quality to be had by some of the more modestly priced efforts. Not as a matter of routine, mind you, but often enough to give hope to those who love Cabernet but find the price of admission too steep.

There is no reason to expect a discernible drop in Cabernet prices in today’s marketplace, and, in fact, rising demand and an improving economy predict just the opposite. The many monotonous claims that high-ticket Cabernet is dead and adrift in the market are not borne out by the rising prices fetched by grapes from premium vineyards, and the market suggests that the thirst for great Cabernet is real.

That said, there are and have always been noteworthy examples that hit the mark for real value, and we take great delight in their discovery. They are the wines we drink on a daily basis while leaving those with three-digit prices for the rare special occasion. The following half-dozen plus one are recommended wines that belong on the shopping lists of thrifty Cabernet fans. They will not make us forget the likes of Corison Kronos, Ridge Montebello, Insignia and Trefethen HaLo, but they outperform a good many bottlings costing three and four times as much, and they are wines you can find.

87 BURIED CANE Roughout Cabernet Sauvignon Columbia Valley 2009 $15.00
Everything about this medium-full-bodied bottling invites a second glance from its red cherry, black cherry, tea leaf mix to its fully supportive creamy oak sitting in the background that adds its own bit of smoky richness. It is supple on the palate and fairly open, and while it is not tough in the usual Cabernet manner, its moderate tannins offer a useful bit of grip. Its price makes it one of the bargains of the Issue.

87 B. R. COHN Silver Label Cabernet Sauvignon North Coast 2009 $20.00
Young, energetic, nicely oaked and sporting focused black cherry fruit that tilts to quiet but evident whiffs of tart berries, this one comes up medium-bodied and somewhat narrow but still fruity in palate impression. It adopts a less pushy style than most Cabs of the day yet has just enough heart to make itself at home next to simple grilled steaks and chops. Its price makes it doubly attractive.

88 COLUMBIA CREST Grand Estates Cabernet Sauvignon Columbia Valley 2009 $12.00
It has been some time since we have seen a twelve-dollar Cabernet that was as deep and defined as this noteworthy offering from Columbia Crest, and, if not as dense and dramatic as its some, it shames more than a few of its prestigious cousins costing a great deal more. It is a delicious wine now but will age with ease, and it should not be missed by any who are looking for a lovely everyday Cab.

87 EDUCATED GUESS Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley 2010 $20.00
This brilliantly conceived negociant bottling proves that, even in difficult times, there are opportunities to produce priceworthy wines when one takes the time and effort to do it. It is fairly full in body and finds balancing grip from evident tannins that play off against both its obvious cherry-like ripeness and its supple and rounded tactile impressions, but while easy to approach even now, it promises to hold for a few years yet for those who would lay some away.

87 FIRESTONE Cabernet Sauvignon Santa Ynez Valley 2009 $20.00
It may not be the deepest or most complex Cabernet to be had, but this nicely filled, oak-enriched effort is long on well-ripened cherries and never veers from its fruity course. It is full and fleshy in feel before tightening just a bit as its nominal tannins take hold, but a few years in the cellar will bring it to its best, and it is a fine value in every regard.

88 GEYSER PEAK Walking Tree Cabernet Sauvignon Alexander Valley Block Collection 2009 $20.00
Insistent black cherry fruit sits at the heart of this rounded, comparatively polished effort with a smattering of herbs, lightly laid-on oak and a mild trim of milk chocolate all lending a bit of quiet complexity. Clean as can be and scrubbed but still showing a fine fruity center, the wine is both rich and well-structured with the manners of one that will drink well now and can age on the strength of its balance.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
If I Ruled The World

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

For decades now, there has been little real change in the wine world. Oh, sure, the whole New World is new, but is it different? Same varieties, same techniques, same expectations, If I ruled the wine world, things would be different. Some things would be very different to the point of heresy while others would simply see great ideas recognized sooner and more completely. Yes, if I ruled the world, the wine biz would be anything but staid.

Here are a few pet ideas that have been rattling around in my brain. See if any of them make sense to you. And, yes, the more heretical the better.

The Appellation Systems Everywhere Should Be Scrapped

I don’t care which letters one applies to those systems, they are antiquated, political and marketing nonsense except to the industry that benefits from them. The uses of the appellation systems to limit which wines can be planted where does benefit the industry by making things simple and by establishing a level of exclusivity. Never mind that the soils on Mont Brouilly in Beaujolais are virtually identical to those in the Côte Rotie, and they are virtually next door to each other. Don’t bother planting your Syrah in Beaujolais. Don’t for a minute think about Chardonnay in Vouvray despite the cool, limestone-laced vineyards there that might very well produce superb wines with that latter variety. Oh, and while you are at it, don’t bother trying your Chenin Blanc in Burgundy or your Riesling in Normandy.

And if you think that such silliness is limited to Europe, we have our own brand of self-servingness here in California. For years, maybe for one-hundred years, the West Rutherford Bench has been considered to be the best place to grow Cabernet Sauvignon in these parts. When the Napa Valley began to be separated into smaller geographic sections, it was not the West Rutherford Bench that got recognized. It was the entire commune of Rutherford even though the east and west sides of that geography produce wines with very different characteristics. No one would want to denigrate East Rutherford, but so too would very few knowledgeable tasters not be able to separate the wines from east and west.

New Heroes Needed

I have a list of grapes that I want to become the new heroes. No need to shunt aside the old heroes, and some of my new heroes are old heroes elsewhere. Riesling, Nebbiolo, Sangiovese, Tempranillo, Fiano and the Mount Etna “Nerellos” are cases in point. Even Albarino, a wine I particularly prize far above most table wine Moscato and Pinot Gris, has a very important role in the northwestern corner of Spain and in the adjoining territory immediately to the south in Portugal. No need here to lament Riesling because CGCW has championed that variety from the outset. And Nebbiolo, despite the valiant attempts at its making here in California, has yet to prove that most of what bears the name locally is worthy of special attention.

Grenache, I think and predict, is on its way to stardom locally. It may take some time, and we do not yet know for sure where it will grow best, but there are quite a few fine versions being made, albeit in small lots for the most part. We have been reviewing Grenache for years now in our July Rhône Issue, and it has not let us down.

But what of varieties that we really have not tried. On a recent trip to southern Italy, I managed to drink a fair bit of Fiano, a grape that only exists here in experimental vineyards. However, a brand new version from the Rock Wall winery has given me new hope. Bright, fruity, dry and lively, round and balanced, Fiano could one day challenge for a place among the dry whites. Here’s hoping that it gets the chance.

My other new love from that Italy trip were the Nerello brothers of Mount Etna, Mascalese and Cappuccio. Despite growing at altitude in rugged soils, these grapes in combination produce wines whose closest vinous analogy is Pinot Noir.

It may be heresy to say it, but if I ruled the world, these red and whites from southern Italy, whose wines can be so exciting in those narrowly defined regions, would be planted all over the world, including in places in Europe where the current laws would forbid. And while I doubt that Pinot Noir itself would be a star on Etna, I would give it a try.

The Wine Spectator and The Wine Enthusiast Must Stop Reviewing Wine

In truth, I have no axe to grind with Steve Heimoff or Harvey Steiman, with Paul Gregutt or Tim Fish, all of whom write about the same patch as I do. But, their magazines only purport to be in the same business as me and Connoisseurs’ Guide. Those mags are not wine reviews. They are lifestyle merchants, and they make their money not by charging their readers a reasonable price for content but by selling advertising to everyone and his brother. Their heavily subsidized subscription prices do not even cover the cost of putting their magazines into the post. Wine reviews should be the province of the independent reviewers, but where it once was, it will never be again because of the power of the business model which relies on eyeballs and advertising. Some will criticize this stance as self-serving because Connoisseurs’ Guide is one of those no-advertising wine reviewers whose lunch is being eaten by the Spectator and the Enthusiast.

But here is the bigger problem. Back thirty or forty years ago, there were as many wine review publications as there are today. But “today” is really a reflection of yesterday because there does not exist one, no-advertising wine reviewer of note that has come into being in the last fifteen years. There is a lot more wine coming from many more places, yet the wine review community is being held down by magazines whose real purpose is not to review wine but to sell ads and lifestyle.

Not An April Fool’s Joke

True confession. I did think of a column something like this one for Monday, but when I sat down to write it, the ideas that we would remake the appellation laws into something better, that we would expand the presence of interesting varieties into new places, that wine reviewing would return to a totally independent process, turned out to be so right that I could not offer them on April 1. There may be heresy here, but there is also truth.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Drink It If You Like It—But It Better Be Good

Mon, 01 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I have no issues with those who like to remind that taste is a personal thing, and I would never belittle anyone for liking the wines that they like. My patience, however, has pretty much disappeared with those who lecture that there is no such thing as “good” or “bad” in wine, that quality is solely and singularly in the eye of beholder.

The endless invocation of every imaginable caveat to making a judgment about any wine serves no one well, and, I would ask the new generation of self-published wine critics to please take a stand.

Yes, I know that setting and mood and food and such will have an influence on how we might perceive this or that wine, but I simply cannot let go of the idea that there are boundaries to “good” and “bad” that are apparent to most every wine lover with a bit of experience and a modest attention span. “Whatever you like” might play well in the blogosphere, but as a professional, I cannot abide it. “Whatever you like” must come with the qualification that a wine needs to be good.

The catalyst for my latest musings on the topic was a pair of remarkably good wines we pulled out for dinner this past weekend. I had the craving for a serious and substantial red wine or two, and chose the 2005 Skipstone Cabernet blend and the 2005 Ojai Vineyard Roll Ranch Syrah to accompany a couple of perfectly grilled filets. Both wines were gorgeous; deep, brilliantly balanced, wonderfully complex and very much coming into their own with nearly eight years of age. Everyone at the table, from a couple of picky professionals, myself included, to absolute novices was struck at the sheer deliciousness of the wines.

We did not speak of terroir, technique or winemaking ethics, and there were no quibbles, no ifs, ands or buts as to just how good the wines were. I was once again reminded, while however unique our particular perspectives might be, that quality is transcendent and that great wine has the ability to reach us all.

Lately, we are too often told that Millennial wine drinkers are changing the rules of fine wine. That may be true as far as marketing goes, but I do not believe that they are in any way different when it comes to the ability to recognize and pursue quality. And, as time passes, they like all that have gone before them will hone their senses and tastes to a very keen edge. Tyler Balliet, the mind behind the Millennial-geared Wine Riot events, recently observed that the new generation of wine-interested folk are a saavy bunch and to get their attention “the wine has to be good. If it sucks, we see right through it.”

Yep, quality is not an out-dated concept and will endure despite silly claims that it might be made irrelevant by the “drink-what-you-like” mantra. Calls for new, “hyperfresh” ways of thinking about wine are not about to change that simple fact. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

And that’s no joke.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
The Importance of “Tastes Good”

Fri, 29 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I am all for wines that are natural, lively, authentic, balanced and relevant. But when you get right down to it, what I want are wines that taste good. I am all for wines with lower alcohol, higher acidities, lower pHs, lower levels of chemical preservatives, but what I want, what I really want, are wines that taste good. I am all for less oak, greater expressions of varietal heritage, tighter adherence to terroir. Who could want anything less?

But, when you get right down to it, I want wines that taste good. I understand that even saying things like hedonistic pleasure is more important than anything else in wine is going to get me in trouble. OK, I get it. And there, I have said it. You can take your arguments like “I don’t drink any wine over 14% alcohol” and “Wine has gotten too heavy in the last twenty years and, thank heaven, it is being dialed back” and “acidity is more important than anything else” and toss them in the nearest trash bin. Wine is not a conceptual creation. Wine is a drink. And it is meant to taste good.

There is only one way to get to that desired place: “tastes good” in your wine choices. You need to decide by tasting the wine. No set of numbers, no theory about authenticity or relevance or alcohol level can supply the answer. Your palate supplies the answer, because your palate does not drink concepts or labels or alcohol levels. It craves “tastes good”.

Now, believe me, I am not advocating any one idea of what tastes good. That is just the opposite of this rant. “Let a thousand flowers bloom” is my first and foremost guideline in wine. There are no right answers except what tastes good to you. Stop telling me what tastes good theoretically. Stop telling me that you are the arbiter of what is or is not in balance and that your artificial measures are determinant.

You are wrong if you judge wine before you have tasted it. And I can prove it with two wonderful examples. Commentator No. 1, lover of all things acid and the more bristling the better who verbally assaults anyone who thinks that wine with pHs higher than he likes, recently recommended a Shafer Merlot to his readers. Nothing wrong with Shafer Merlot. We here at Connoisseurs’ Guide recommend that wine to our readers in more vintages than not. But, Shafer Merlot clocks in at 14.9% alcohol or so, and is the exact antithesis of the wines that Mr. No. 1 claims are the only wines worth pursuing. What he has done is to prove that his formulaic teachings are all wet, and instead, the way to judge wines is by taste. Hallelujah, I say. But sadly, his pet theories have not changed even though his palate has told him otherwise.

Example two is sort of more of the same thing. A well-known and respected scribe, indeed, No. 1 is also a fine writer and gentleman, who I will call No. 2, and very specifically damns full-bodied wines as stupid and lethargic and impossible, recently recommended a Rock Wall Cabernet Sauvignon with alcohol levels near 15%, with very low acidity and a pH level that would, in his publicly stated view of the world, make a wine flabby, dull and unpleasant before the end of the first glass. Connoisseurs’ Guide has liked that wine, and even if we did not, it was liked by No.2 when he tasted it blind. In short, when tasting blind, it was “tastes good”, not good theory, that ruled the day. Once again, I say “Hallelujah”, but once again, I come away disappointed because No. 2 has not changed his tune. He thinks he is launching a revolution in California wine with his staunch views on what is right and what is wrong.

We can probably agree that a certain lightening up of California wine is a okay thing. Some wines have lost their varietal bearings, their sense of place, the flavors of grapes and have played instead to power, potency and the more intense flavors of dried fruit. But in saying even that, we are saying that “tastes good” does not always apply.

In this, I know better. “Tastes good” always applies. And the arbiter of “tastes good” is not No. 1 or No. 2 or Connoisseurs’ Guide or anyone but you. You are the arbiter of what tastes good to you. And the way you need to determine what tastes good to you is to taste the wine and ignore all the other arguments.

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thorns
Pinot Paydirt In The Santa Cruz Mountains

Thu, 28 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

It is not among the more prestigious or glamorous events to be found on the calendar of wine events, and its attendees do not number in the thousands, but the annual Pinot Paradise tasting hosted by the Santa Cruz Mountains Winegrowers Association has become an afternoon I try not to miss.

This year’s version, the ninth annual, came and went without a great deal of fanfare this last Sunday, but as in the past, it was again a gentle reminder that the Santa Cruz Mountains appellation is and for a very long time has been home to some very good Pinot Noir. Starting with the first bottlings of the legendary Martin Ray and continuing with what is now more than forty years of success at the hands of Mount Eden Winery, Santa Cruz Pinot has proven itself and now seems poised to gather new admirers.

The fact that there are but a few dozen Pinot producers scattered over its considerable expanse at least helps explain its relative lack of acclaim, yet its better efforts can be comfortably compared to those from the more widely esteemed names of the day such as Anderson Valley, the Sonoma Coast and the Russian River Valley. As folks from Santa Barbara and Monterey already know, the Coastal vineyards north of San Francisco do not have a monopoly on fine Pinot Noir.

This year’s Pinot Paradise tasting only underscored that fact, and, even though a good many of the featured wines came from the difficult 2010 and 2011 vintages, I came away with the sense that the overall quality of Santa Cruz Mountain Pinot was on the rise. I recall five or six years back, that the wines were inconsistent and that far too many smacked of amateurism. Recent efforts, however, go a long way towards proving the old adage that practice does, in fact, makes perfect.

While we do not write reviews based on tastings we do at wineries or such events, I found plenty to like from old favorites and new names alike. Of particular note were new bottlings from Alfaro, Big Basin, Mount Eden and Santa Cruz Mountain Vineyard, and the House Family Winery and Silvertip Vineyards are newcomers to watch.

This year’s installment of what I expect will be many more may be over, but the Santa Cruz Mountains winegrowers have other event planned in addition to its Spring Pinot Paradise tasting. If you happen to be in the area, have a look at their website http://www.scmwa.com/

You just might be surprised at what you have been missing.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Look Out, Chardonnay, You Are In Decline

Mon, 25 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Look out, Chardonnay, you are in decline. You are a has-been. You are all washed up. You are going to follow Merlot and Syrah into the dustbin of history. We know this because a report by Napa Technologies says so. And they know because they asked 90 people in the wine business and 40% of them said so. And if 40% of 90 people say something, it must be true. Why else would Napa Technologies trumpet that “finding” in its web site?

The problem is not with the data, but in the manner of its collection. Asking a bunch of sommeliers and high-powered insiders anything is going to lead to inaccurate results. They certainly can speak for themselves, and no one who frequents leading restaurants in San Francisco will miss the point that there is a trend towards little known white varieties like Albarino and Arneis and Gruner Veltliner and Ribolla Gialla and away from Chardonnay. But San Francisco restaurants and their hip cousins in other hip burgs are simply responding to the desire we “too knowledgeable folks” feel about eating in the hip places like Francis and AQ and Commonwealth. We like to experiment. We like to try things.

And so it is probably true that we are less invested in Chardonnay than we used to be. We are also less invested in Bordeaux First and Second Growths and Tete de Cuvée Champagnes. That does not mean that we like those wines any less. But when LeFlaive and Ramey Chardonnays cost in the hundreds of dollars in restaurants, it makes sense that we seek out something else.

The wine-consuming world is a much bigger place today than it was forty years or twenty years ago or even ten years ago. Chardonnay plantings and sales have not suffered in absolute terms—any more than Merlot sales suffered when the New York Times declared the variety dead twenty years ago.

So, my advice to you, Chardonnay, is to take reports of your decline with a grain of salt. Those reports, to bastardize the immortal words of Mr. Clemens, are greatly exaggerated.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Buying The 2010 Bordeaux: Some Hints

Fri, 22 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Way back when, Bordeaux was my thing. The wines of Pauillac, Saint-Julien, Margaux, Saint-Estèphe and Saint-Émilion were what my world go around until I was slowly but steadily won over by those grown and made here at home. I admit that these days I neither buy nor drink a great deal of the stuff from Bordeaux, but the affection is still there, even if the budget is not.

I have, however, been toying with the thought of making a small purchase of the 2010 clarets. The vintage is impressive. While I found plenty to like in the much ballyhooed 2009s, the 2010s strike me as more classically constructed; deep, fully ripened, extraordinarily well-structured and very much a piece of their own. They will not be mistaken for, nor will they replace, my favorites from Oakville, Stags Leap and Rutherford, but, after all, is not variety the spice of life?

As is the case in most every Spring, we are about to publish a short report in our upcoming April issue on how the new-to-market Bordeaux vintage, in this case the 2010s, are shaping up now that they have been bottled and are making their ways across the pond. It will be accompanied by tasting notes for forty or so mid- to upper-echelon bottlings and is meant not as a comprehensive review but as a more of a snapshot at the recent state of things in Bordeaux and to provide context for what is going on out here on the West Coast.

There is no question but that the 2010s are quite good, and our tastings have made me start to think about adding a few to the cellar. They are, of course, not cheap, but neither are the better bottlings from Napa, and, in the end, there is generally a good deal of price parity among Bordeaux and the best local offerings. I was quite surprised, however, at just how wildly many of the Bordeaux prices fluctuated depending upon the source from which they were purchased and that so many bore price tags far in excess of those recently listed in influential reviews.

A quick online check at such sites as Vinopedia and Wine Searcher showed, more often than not, price variances of as much as fifty to sixty percent from one merchant to another. And, not surprisingly, it was common to see prices most widely divergent on those wines that have received some of the most glowing reviews. In all truth, there has never really been such a thing as “winery suggested retail prices” when it comes to Bordeaux, and the governing principle continues to be “whatever the market will bear.”

The lesson most clearly learned here is that it very much pays to shop around, and that a bit of time spent in researching the online markets can be lucrative. A hundred dollars here and a hundred dollars there, as they say, can quickly add up to real money.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Who Needs Vintage Dating? I Do, But Do My Neighbors?

Wed, 20 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

That proposition, it seems to me, is self-evident. Rather than blending to a high level of quality, and at times accomplishing more than most winemakers can with single-vintage wines, the wineries have bought into the notion that virtually all wines priced higher than vin ordinaire should come with a vintage date. But do we care about most day-to-day bottlings? Who here can tell me the qualitative difference between Chateau St. Jean Sonoma County Chardonnay of the last five vintages? We cannot because we don’t care about wine at that level, and our neighbors care far less than we do.

Here is my problem. I just read an intelligent and amusing guest editorial over on Tim Atkin's blog, entitled “Who Needs Bordeaux Vintages?” *. Tim is English so his and his countrymen’s senses of humor are quite dry. No knee-slapping over there. Just well-reasoned, perfectly intoned logic that will make you smile knowingly. You could almost believe that the author actually believed what he was writing. And, frankly, I think perhaps he did because there is a very legitimate argument to be made for everyday wines, those costing $20 and less for most varieties, and maybe $40 for Pinot Noir and Cabernet Sauvignon and a couple of others, to be blends of vintages.

For one thing, we here in California, and maybe now in Bordeaux, rarely have bad vintages. We have significant vintage variation, of course, and those variations are still of great importance to the finest wines because we want them to be as good as good can get. Blended wines simply by definition are not ever going to be reach that standard. Never mind that the whole wine-writing industry might lose its purpose if there were no vintage variations.

But what of lesser vintages and lesser wines on the whole? I am guessing that Beaulieu, to choose a name of some significance, could make a better $25 Rutherford Cabernet on a continuing basis than they do now if they would blend wines from several vintages. Beaulieu might miss the occasional high that comes when the vintage is grand from top to bottom, but those vintages are rare even in California. Maybe once every three to six years or so. Maybe less depending on who is counting, and at what level one is measuring. Intelligent blending need not lead to mediocrity.

If one starts from the twin premises that wine is too expensive and that wine is inconsistent from vintage to vintage, then the continuing above-averageness of a blend that can make use of a cross-section of vintages and lots to achieve better balance, more complexity and more bang for the consumer dollar is far more desirable than putting a vintage date on everything priced more than $6.

The editorial over on Atkin's is decidedly tongue-in-cheek, but it is also a serious complaint about the way in which vintage affects most of the wines that the world drinks on a daily basis. My neighbors know nothing about vintage variations. They just drink what they drink. Why then should their $15 tipple have a vintage and be subject to vintage vagaries when the winery could make a perfectly fine, priceworthy bottling with far less variation?

Do go read the Robert Joseph guest editorial. He is not advocating that we do away with vintage. He knows better, even in a world in which Bordeaux has already experienced five vintages of the decade and at least two vintages of the century. His article is a great read and is thoughtfully amusing. It also serious journalism in its own right because it is not nearly as easily dismissed as its humorous side might make it seem.

* http://www.timatkin.com/articles?906

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Winning An Argument In Wine Country

Mon, 18 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Philosophical arguments are by nature unwinnable. When they take on a moral edge they can become downright nasty, and any pretense to verifiable fact is abandoned in the name of faith and true belief. We see that brand of unwinnable argument on all kinds of topics these days, and none is fought with more ferocity and blind polemic than those that see saviors and charlatans alike in the “natural” wine movement. Those arguments are again in the spotlight, and the already tenuous bonds of civility are being stretched very thin.

The latest salvo against those who champion a wholly “natural” winemaking regime – and, please, let us agree that nobody actually seems to know what that means – comes by way of Italy’s prestigious wine review, the Gambero Rosso. Noted critic Michel Bettane goes off the deep end in damning the natural wine movement which with the “complicity of numerous sommeliers, wine merchants and irresponsible journalists”, he claims, has resulted in a literal invasion of failed wines that are malodorous, devoid of terroir and all taste the same because of the native yeast from which they are made. He argues that they are unstable and cloudy and too frequently “nothing more than a bad wine whose only intention is to give you headache.”

The other side, of course, has been quick to respond, and debate is turning into bitter diatribe. Alice Feiring, with her self-admitted “messiah thing”, is naturally unable to rein in her own brand of righteous retort *, and, on behalf of hundreds of Italian winemakers, or so he alleges, Sicily’s “natural” wine guru, Frank Cornelissen, has published an open letter expressing dismay at Gambero Rosso’s sacrilegious affront. **

Now, it seems to me that it is time for everyone to take a deep breath and reach for a glass of whatever best soothes their wounded spirits.

Winemaking, it has always seemed to me, is equal parts science and art with a bit of luck tossed into the mix. It takes a long time to master and you only get one chance a year to learn and reflect on what is and is not right. It is not like a working on a recipe in the kitchen where you can head back to the “drawing board” and start from scratch several times in a day. I am as wary of wholly intuitive winemaking as I am of those who worship science above all.

The big problem, as I see it, is that true-belief advocacy is rarely sufficiently critical of itself, and, on this issue, both sides of the battle are guilty.

All “natural” wines are not diseased and fatally flawed, and those quick to dismiss them need to recognize this simple fact. I agree wholeheartedly with Mr. Cornelissen that winemakers who chose to make their wines in whatever manner they think is natural should not be automatically accused of being “ingenious or incompetent.” Those who would have us believe that “natural” wine is inherently flawed need to recognize real achievement where achievement exists and accept that a one-size-fits-all mentality does no one good.

On the other hand, those who proclaim their virtues (usually loudly) must be willing to admit that there are some pretty sinister “natural” wines to be had, and that unsubstantiated claims these natural wines are inherently somehow more healthful and digestible are without merit. Oxidized, volatile and bacterially active wines have never seemed all that healthful to me.

Once again, what matters is what is in the glass. It is imperative, I think, to listen to what a wine has to say. Good ones have plenty and need no philosophical justification. Compelling, involving, downright delicious wine comes in all shapes and sizes, and most assuredly one size does not fit all.

* http://www.alicefeiring.com/blog/2013/01/michel-bettane-and-the-scourge-of-natural-wine.html
** http://dobianchi.com/2013/02/18/natural-wine-gambero-rosso/

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Who Can Afford Wine Today?

Fri, 15 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

In his blog entry on Wednesday, my writing compatriot, Steve Eliot, spoke wistfully of the days when he could afford the wines that we now review. And that got me to thinking. Can we really not afford them? Has the world changed that much? Or, is it that we are experiencing future shock? The future has arrived and we are not ready for it.

Wine prices, it is true, are racing off the charts. And the Ridge Cabernet I purchased from the 1970 vintage at under $10 is now somewhere around $150. Other wines, when they can be tracked more or less directly, are also twelve to twenty times what they cost back in the day. In other words, what seemed affordable then seems out of reach today.

And yet, somebody must be buying this ocean of $100 and up Cabernet Sauvignon. The marketplace simply would not, could not support those kinds of prices for what seems to be a rapidly expanding supply of such bottles if they were not buyers. It does not take a fancy degree in economics to understand the basic idea that three-digit prices can only be maintained if there are buyers at those prices.

Obviously, someone does not find that kind of pricing to be excessive. It is not, I suspect, people of my age who are experiencing future shock, and it is not the Millenials who, we are told, are in love with $15 Malbec from Argentina. It is, as it has always been, the newly wealthy, emerging middle to upper middle-class professionals who have rushed past their thirtieth birthdays and are now making lots of money as doctors, lawyers, investment bankers and Silicon Valley computer jockeys. It has always been first about the new money, and it is today.

New money is also about future shock. Look ma, no worries, my salary just jumped ten-fold. I can afford Von Strasser and Blackbird, Alpha Omega and Quintessa, Dominus and Duckhorn, Loring and Lail and the tidal wave of others who have jumped on the hundred-dollar bandwagon.

Here is where I think my generation of complainers has missed the boat. I compared what I paid for my very nice four bedroom house in the suburbs back in 1970 with what my new neighbors just paid to move in directly across the street in very similar house. It is sixteen times what we paid. So I compared what my first nice car (purchased as my salary kept rising and I no longer needed to buy a five-year old used car) to what that car costs today and it is about fifteen times. We will be in the market for a new car soon, and we may or may not pay that kind of price again, but we could if we decide that we need one more really nice car before we get too old to drive anything but a feather bed with wheels.

So, it turns out that some of the great necessities of life are about on par with wine when it comes to increasing cost. And the decision to pay for houses and cars but not for wine, because wine is SO expensive, is as much about future shock as it is about reality.

In the next couple of weeks, we are going to discuss another version of reality. Our April Issue is now in the process of preparation. There are, it turns out, a small but very noticeable number of far more affordable, very tasty and well-made Cabernet Sauvignons that deliver lots of character for the price. They may not be world-beaters, but they are highly recommendable, And, we will be back in a few weeks with an array of wines that caused us to smile when we unveiled them in our blind-tastings and found wines about which we could get excited over their high quality and then doubly excited because they bore price tags that were under $50. Stay tuned. We will deliver the antidote to future shock when our April Issue goes public.

Meet the New CGCW

Jeff

Wednesday Warblings
The Challenge That Cabernet Sauvignon Has Become

Wed, 13 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Cabernet Sauvignon has been on our menu most of this month, and after days and days of tasting our ways through a good many new releases to be reviewed in our upcoming April issue, we are left with stained teeth, furry tongues and a few thoughts on the state of the grape in the state.

It is no question that 2009 has turned out plenty of first-rate bottlings, and has proven more successful than early reports predicted. The rain-plagued 2010 vintage, on the other hand, is a mixed bag to say the least, the kind of year that will reward patience and careful selection. I suppose, however, that what impresses me most is just how expensive good California Cabernet has become.

I can no longer afford to drink the great Bordeaux and Burgundies that I once enjoyed on an at least occasional basis, and the better bottlings of Italy and the Rhône have left me as well, but there is something especially alarming about being abandoned by such an old friend as home-grown Cabernet. I guess that is the price of success.

Oh, this is not the first time the cost of good Cabernet has made me squirm, but it is clear that opening even a couple of good bottles a month is now a real financial commitment. The problem is that the good ones are remarkably good, and the upward price spiral suggests that there are plenty of folks who believe they are worth it. I have heard half-gleeful laments from some quarters that high-ticket Cabernets are a dead, dust-gathering item in restaurants these days, but a recent survey of customer preferences showed that Cabernet sales were still strong at fine eateries. The simple dictates of supply and demand instruct that when demand diminishes, prices will ease, and I see nothing diminished about Cabernet prices.

Now it just may be that fine Cabernet will face a crisis as the wine market starts to shift. The Millennials are THE force with which to be reckoned. The new generation of wine drinkers, we are told, demands something new, abhors old expertise and relies on itself for guidance. I must wonder, however, how good Cabernet can possibly be relevant to other than those limited few who can afford it. There is a reason that $15.00 Argentine Malbec plays very big with the crowd.

Charlie has argued in earlier CGCW postings that some aging Millennials will embrace wine as something more than a simple staple and will spend more as their increasing incomes allow. I think that is true. It is also true, however, that the world’s appetite for the very best wines has grown remarkably in recent years. There is a host of fine California Cabernet Sauvignons that, in fact, rank with the best, and prices will always reflect what the market will bear. The best of anything has never come cheap.

There are those who would have me leave Cabernet for the next pretty new face, but I cannot. The friendship is too dear and enduring. Top-shelf Cabernet may have become an occasional indulgence, but it remains a memorable one. Thank goodness for good, affordable bottlings from the likes of Beaulieu and Martini, but there is still nothing like the layered richness, beauty and depth that truly great Cabernet from Montebello, Oakville, Rutherford, Stags Leap and points north and south can deliver.

I expect that I will continue to gripe about Cabernet’s cost, but know that all complaints stop when a good glass is poured.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
THE ROLE OF CONTEXT IN WINE REVIEWS

Tue, 12 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Amidst the anguished analysis of the wine criticism world brought about primarily because of the Wine Advocate’s twists and turns, and secondarily by the recognition that a very large number of today’s leading critics will be aging out of the business in the next decade, has been a quiet but useful conversation about the role of context in wine reviews.

The idea is that each wine exists within the context of its place, cepage, winemaker’s intent, vintage and a half dozen or two of other bits of data that are integral to its makeup. Those who believe that context is determinant argue that they are better tasters when they know all about a wine in advance. In other words, they want to taste each wine with the label showing and with as much knowledge about the wine as they can possibly muster. That argument was mostly recently in a thoughtful way by the San Francisco Chronicle’s Jon Bonne.

It is not a new argument, of course. They have always been winemakers and distributors who claim that the only way to understand their wines to taste them not just with the label showing but with someone knowledgeable at your elbow telling you what you are tasting. That technique is obviously delivers as much “context” as one can get short of knowing the wine at every step of its life cycle—and with tens of thousands of wines to taste, no one can know that much in advance.

One recent example will suffice. Francis Ford Coppola, the great filmmaker turned winery owner, has built a large empire of vineyards and labels. While he is not a match for the exploits of Jess Jackson and the Gallos, or more recently for Bill Foley who has quietly gobbled up a bunch of brands far beyond his Santa Barbara starting place, Mr. Coppola has nonetheless produced wines in an array of prices from mid-level to very high. Here at Connoisseurs’ Guide, we have been lucky enough to know his labels from the beginning when he took over the old Inglenook facility in Rutherford and launched wines like Rubicon and Pennino.

And then came, Coppola Diamond Collection, Director’s Cut and now a label simply identified as Director’s. We received five Chardonnays from the Coppola empire the other day for our review—look for them to appear in our May Issue. But when we went in search of Coppola’s Cabernets from his Rutherford property, we were told that they were no longer available to be tasted blind. After three decades of putting those wines out for review, and with a slew of fancy ratings and positive commentary trailing behind, those wines now can only be tasted at the winery with the winemaker in attendance. Apparently, the wine review community is not able to appreciate them fully unless we are schooled by the winery.

And thus, the debate. Now matter how one slices it, tasting with context is a form of tasting while an advertisement is running. It reaches its most pernicious peak at places like Coppola’s Rutherford winery now renamed Inglenook, and at a host of other wineries who think that they need to control the information flow.

The question then needs to be asked. How is that procedure different from tasting not at the winery but with the label showing and with the information at hand about past performance, winemaking style, the winemaker’s and owner’s personality, the specific place of origin, right down, in some cases, to the vineyard.

To put it in “context”, if a critic knows that the Chardonnay before him is made by HdV or Ramey and is from the Hyde Vineyard, can the critic judge that wine against Mr. Coppola’s Sonoma County Director’s Cut Chardonnay (selling for less than half the price and having less than half the panache, the cachet, the “you have loved me for years” magnetism)? Even acknowledging my own bias based in almost four decades of running CGCW on a blind-tasting only regimen, I would argue that the answer has to be a resounding, “No”.

Context is useful to understand a wine wholly and completely. Context of that sort is unnecessary to place a wine in the hierarchy of goodness, to judge its varietal precision, to judge its depth, to judge its balance, to judge is beauty, to judge its ageworthiness. Those judgments are the ones that critics have to make, and it is not all that hard to make them when knows what one is doing.

But what about context in today’s debate? I would argue that context comes in two ways. The first, and by far the most important, is the wine in context of its newly minted peers. That context, after all, is the context that is most important to the wine buyers who look to expert opinion for guidance. But, the other “context” that of the wine itself, does become known to the critic once the blind-tasted wines are revealed. The first judgments about the wine are already made, and they cannot change. But, the data-based context does come into play in ways that further inform the written review.

Wines that have a history of changing for the better over time, and wines of a similar stripe, even when never tasted before, can and do get a knowing glance. Marimar Chardonnays, Corison Cabernets, Storybook Mountain Zinfandels must first stand on the results of blind tasting. But, they will often earn an extra comment based on the critic’s experience with those wines over time. For instance, it would not violate the blind-tasting “rigor” by adding a comment to a Storybook Mountain review of the type “this wine reminds of the XXXX Reserve which we recently tasted at twenty years old and had held up magnificently. Or the opposite, “based on our recently 25-year retrospective tasting of Storybook Mountain Zins, this one seems more an eight year wine than a twenty year wine”.

What is lost when critics taste with the labels showing is independent judgment of the type that is only possible when the wines are not known at the time of tasting. Whatever is gained by knowing context cannot be enough to warrant that absence of blind tasting.

But, what can and should be acknowledged by blind-tasting advocates is that the larger context does help tell the story of the wine. And that aspect of wine commentary is really what lies at the heart of the context debate. Is it story or independently derived judgments about hedonistic/organoleptic quality that ultimately are what winelovers want?

The answer ultimately is in the eye of the beholder. And that answer has no right or wrong because the big-cellar collectors, the high-ceiling restaurants and their ilk want one thing and folk who are regular wine drinkers but not consumers of wine reviews by the hundreds and thousands want another.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
The Real Questions Are: Does The Wine Taste Good and Will It Go With Dinner?

Fri, 08 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

It has always struck me that bloggers of most every stripe spend an inordinate amount of time writing about the significant influence of bloggers. I cannot say so with any absolute authority as I have barely enough time to spend even a small part of my day checking in on what those who write about wine have to say, but there is no question that wine bloggers are by enlarge a self-possessed lot. They are quick to take the populist position that there are no right answers to any question and then will tell you all the things that are wrong.

Over the last many months there has been one broadside after another fired off about the waning significance of wine critics and how the world of wine writing is undergoing a tidal change. True in some ways, I think, but less so in others. I would not for a minute argue that the means of information transmission have not changed, but has the information itself and what inquisitive, wine-interested people want to know really undergone some dramatic metamorphosis?

There are those that suggest that a wine’s “story” is what is most important, and I suppose that if you believe that the medium is truly the message then maybe Twitter can be cited as proof that what some folks desire is less rather than more, but I still believe that the imperatives of quality and style are what concerns most of us most of the time. Does the wine taste good? Is it balanced? Is it big and robust or lighter and lively. Should I put it away in the cellar or can it be enjoyed now? Will it fit in at dinner with a well-seasoned roast, or is it meant for washing down a dozen oysters on the half-shell. Is it something that I am likely to enjoy?

Maybe I am missing something, but as long as I have been professionally involved with wine as a retailer, an educator and as a writer, these are the questions that have remained timeless. I do not see that why or how the varied means by which their answers are found will in some way make them irrelevant in the new world.

I guess that I would just like to read more opinions and insights about wine itself and less about graying gatekeepers and why experience is overrated and should be summarily dismissed. And, the latest obsession with writing about writing is so numbingly dull that it actually makes me nostalgic for the days when we argued about “authenticity”, the worth of blind tasting, points and whether or not low alcohol was the true path to success.

I have absolutely no doubt that there will be a new tempest in the blogging teapot tomorrow. I just hope that there are also a few words that inform and excite about wine.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
The Environmental Impact of Producing a Bottle of Wine in Nova Scotia

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I was drawn to a recent article by the above title not because I have much to say on the subject so much as I am fascinated by the topic of producing wine in Nova Scotia. It is cold up there. It is cold in the summer and seemingly impossible in the winter, although people do seem to live there and like it.

The fact is that I was drawn to the title because I recently vacationed (in the summer, thank you) in Nova Scotia, and I learned to my great surprise that there is a small but very active wine-growing community there. Now, I have to admit that I went in search of the coldest-water ocean seafood that one could find in our hemisphere. I grew up in Boston loving Maine lobster and Ipswich (north of Beantown) clams and cold-water scallops and Quahogs.

It my love affair with those items has not dimmed despite decades of living on the West Coast and loving our own seafoods like Tomales Bay oysters, Dungeness crabs, Alaska wild salmon and anything else that we can get locally. So, off we went to Nova Scotia in search of scenery and seafood.

And what did we discover on our very first night? The sommelier at our restaurant suggested that we try some of the local wine. Perhaps it was not world-class, but then scallops and mussels pulled from the frigid waters that day were about as good as it gets, and, besides, we have always made it our habit to drink the local wine all over the world so why not here?

When I saw a reference to the article discussing the environemental costs of a bottle of wine in Nova Scotia, I was hooked. I had to read it because I hoped it would talk about Nova Scotia. When was the last time you read any article about wine in Nova Scotia? Well, it turns out that the wine was almost irrelevant to the topic. It was the costs of the creating the trellising system that contributed heavily to the environmental impact and the environmental costs of driving to the store to buy the bottle. Lighter glass made very little difference (as little as 2%). And no one even discussed the fact that drinking Nova Scotia wine meant that wine did not have to be trucked in from the rest of the world.

Chances are that you will never drink a Nova Scotia wine unless you go there, and while this is no travelogue, I am happy to report that I found local varieties like Arcadia to be more interesting than the locally grown Chardonnay and that I found Nova Scotia in general to be well worth the vacation time spent.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Relevance Measured At Varying Price Levels

Mon, 04 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

We get more than our share of press releases, bulletins and otherwise useless annoucements from and about those in the business of wine cluttering up our electronic mailboxes every day. Every now and then, however, an entry stands out and beckons a second, serious look. A fascinating piece showed up in my inbox at the end of last week that set me to further thinking on the issue of “relevance” in the contemporary wine scene.

In our last CGCW post, Charlie questioned the usefulness of the latest wine buzz word, “relevance”, and those who might see it as some absolute trait that defines a wine’s worth. Relevance, he reasonably concluded, is in the eye of the beholder, and every wine drinker is fully capable of deciding what is or is not relevant to them. Well, it seems that there is at least one new set of metrics that just might measure what “relevance” means in the realm of restaurant wine sales.

It turns out that the new tablet wine app called Tastevin developed by Labrador Omnimedia not only provides management tools for restaurant wine sales, inventory management and the like, but the sales data it tracks and collects is leading to some eye-opening conclusions about diner preferences when it comes to buying a bottle or a glass with dinner.

It seems that patrons of lower-priced restaurants, defined as those whose entrées are priced between $10 and $30, preferred red wines, in particular blends, Cabernet Sauvignon and Pinot Noir while sales of Malbec and Prosecco were significant as well. At medium-priced eateries, those with entrées running between $31 and $60, Chardonnay emerged as the top varietal wine by the glass, while Cabernet Sauvignon led in sales by the bottle, and those dining in the priciest places, where entreés cost over $60, favored sparkling wines and Chardonnay.

It is fairly clear that what is “relevant” to one set of diners is less so to another, but the bigger story here might well be how such relevance ultimately becomes a sales tool and, perhaps, permanent.

"This opens a new window on wine sales on-premise in America," says Janeen Olsen, wine marketing professor at Sonoma State University, and co-author of Wine Marketing and Sales. "This is exactly the kind of information wineries and restaurants need to make smart marketing and sales decisions in the future."

Now, meeting demand is paramount in any business, but it seems to me that tightly embracing such data necessarily perpetuates the status quo, and it has always seemed to me that the business of food and wine is one that thrives and finds its own relevance in being ever new.

Relevance is many things to many people, the restaurateur, the wholesaler, the winery and the wine drinker, and it defies summary definition.

The more I think about it, in fact, the less relevant the word “relevant” becomes. I confess that what is suddenly relevant to me is a couple of aspirin and another cup of coffee to combat the headache that thinking about it has caused.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Millenials Want “Relevant” Wines—Do You?

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

It must be some kind of parlor game—this fascination with assigning new words and categories to explain wine. We have somehow just maneuvered past “authentic”, are now hung up on “natural” and along comes Jon Bonne of the San Francisco Chronicle to tell us that today’s young wine drinkers want wines that are “relevant” and “forthright”.

Over on his eponymous blog, Steve Heimoff, Steve Heimoff questions those terms and raises the appropriate old fogey question, “Does that mean that the rest of us drink wines that are irrelevant?” Well, I am here to answer that question, and to explain the concept of “relevancy”, because unlike friend Heimoff, I agree with friend Bonne on this one—at least at first glance.

Back in my green youth, my college roommates and I realized that wine was a finer way to the hearts of our dates than rotgut liquor. So, we used to wander out to the local “package store” as they were known in those days back east, and would bring home a bottle or three of Gallo Burgundy. After several months of that practice, the store owner took an interest in our palates and suggested that we step up to Gallo’s Hearty Burgundy, which he correctly identified as a lot deeper wine.

Relevancy in those days meant only, “does it taste good and how much of it will our dates drink”? Aside from the realization that the second question was also answered with “not enough”, since our dates were obviously smarter than we were, the first question of “taste good” was enough “relevancy” to us. Towards the end of those happy days, we had graduated to inexpensive Beaujolais and thought ourselves quite jaunty. “Taste good” had not been lost, but experience taught us something about wine and “tastes better” became part of the relevancy equation.

Here is how California wine became totally relevant to me. I moved to California to do graduate school work, and I found “tastes good” wine everywhere. Soon, “relevancy” became getting out to wine country whenever the burden of school could be lifted. It was about a half decade or so later when “relevancy” became about greatness. It was a shifting concept in any event as my palate improved and my level of caring grew.

All of a sudden, new Chardonnay in the hands of Hanzell and Spring Mountain and David Bruce and Heitz entered my life. A growing wallet had something to do with that. I could afford $5 Chardonnay instead of $2 Chenin Blanc (man, I still miss those dry Chenins of my youth and admittedly will drink Vouvray and Montlouis and Savennieres when I can). What became relevant to me was what I wanted to drink, what I could afford and what my peers (for that is how I discovered “expensive” Chardonnay) were drinking.

All of which brings me back to Messrs. Bonne and Heimoff. Millenials want wines, we are told by Mr. Bonne, that are “relevant”, and the question of “relevant to what” turns out not to be a wine quality question alone, but also wine experience and peer group questions. There was a time when relevant for me was Lancers and Mateus. That was what we all drank for a period of time. Those wines became irrelevant as our palates began to look for wines that were less sweet and more complex. It was experience and peer group interactions that drove our view of what we wanted.

That is what is happening with the Millenials of which Mr. Bonne is speaking. When he says that they want wines that are “relevant”, he means, I hope (because he is wrong otherwise in my humble opinion) that Millenials want to drink what their buddies are drinking, can afford, like at that moment. Relevant is not a style or a quality level or a color or a specific hedonistic experience. It is simply “what you know” based on your experiences and the other inputs that are operating in your life.

And if the Millenials are like other generations, they too will see their concepts of relevance changing as their collective experience brings them into wider and wider acquaintances with wine. In that sense, the use of the term “relevant” is used almost too cavalierly, because, in Mr. Bonne’s world view, relevant means what he likes and what he thinks people his age should like. And, that does make Mr. Heimoff right after all. We old fogeys are just that. We are not relevant to the Millenials anymore than Harry Waugh was relevant to me in my twenties. But, I am confident that some of them will trod the path that we “wine professors” have followed and will find their ways to Pinot Noir and Chardonnay and Bordeaux and Burgundy just as we did.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Premiere Napa Valley Showcases The Best of The Best In A Weakened Vintage

Wed, 27 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Napa Valley’s celebratory, week-long homage to itself, the 17th annual Premiere Napa Valley is now history, and I must admit that it was quite a show. It began with this year’s new inductions to the Culinary Institute of America’s Vintners Hall of Fame and was followed by a succession of impossibly busy days of conferences, tastings, workshops and parties in preface to Saturday’s spectacular barrel tasting and auction.

The wines offered for auction were special small lots of some 60 to 240 bottles created and donated by just about everyone who is anyone in the Valley. The vast majority were Cabernet Sauvignons of the 2011 vintage and are unique, one-of-a-kind wines that will ultimately reside in the cellars and on the lists of the handful of retailers and well-heeled collectors who won them in bidding. They are thus not the stuff we would ever review formally, and, while we confess to finding both favorites and disappointments alike, it would be folly to view them as absolute indicators of winery successes or failures. That is why we wait for the finished wines in bottle. Still, they afforded a best first look at the 2011 vintage for Napa Valley Cabernet, and they provided plenty of food for thought.

There is no question that the vintage was challenging, and, despite the claims of many who see redemption and a new beginning for Napa Valley in the cool 2011 harvest, there is a difference between being lively and fresh and being downright reedy and green. There were plenty of both. If, as a group, the wines were a bit lighter and less given to high extract, there were also plenty of rich, well-ripened efforts that in no way suggested that they had been born in a difficult year. In short, 2011 looks like a very mixed bag and is a vintage that will defy simple, summary judgment.

It looks to me to be very much a winemaker’s year, a year in which strict selection and a willingness to really pay attention to what the grapes have to say will ultimately prove to be the keys to success. Sure, the same can be said for every harvest, but this one will be especially demanding of those who make winemaking decisions from triage at picking straight through to bottling.

Now, I will never discount the importance of place and hold fast to my belief that there are certain blessed pieces of dirt that yield wines of unquestioned greatness. I have, however, never been entirely comfortable with the old saw that wines are wholly made in the vineyard. I have long held that winemakers count, significantly so. I have seen silk purses spun from seeming sows’ ears, and I have seen grand opportunity missed. Happily, we tasted some very impressive wines last week, and we feel safe in saying that there are more than a few very talented folks out there who made good decisions and very good wine in 2011.

Lately, I have been hearing one after another excited declaration that the auspicious 2012 vintage will be a year in which winemakers will have to work hard to fail. I hope that prediction is right. The winemakers deserve a break after 2011.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
Will The Tasting Note Survive?

Tue, 26 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I blame Robert Parker. Not that he created the tasting note. I was reading tasting notes when Mr. Parker was still in knee pants—or at least in law school. But, the predicted demise of his Wine Advocate empire has brought about an outpouring of analysis and prediction about the future of wine criticism. Let’s stipulate that this mass of verbiage is all guesswork, even mine, and that it does not matter which savant or know nothing is speaking, guesswork is still guesswork.

Admittedly, some guesswork is probably more valuable than others—and that is where I come in. I am one of those folks who has followed the shape of wine criticism through several iterations, and whatever contributions I and CGCW have made to the field, do have longevity on their side if nothing else. But maybe there is something else. And that something else is an unwillingness to rush off on wild assumptions that the world of wine criticism is about to change shape so radically that we will know longer recognize the tasting notes of decades and decades of existence.

Instead of its demise, the tasting note has already begun a metamorphosis into a hundred butterflies. And it is not the rating system or lack thereof that is at the heart of this expansion, this greater range of choice about how wine experience and evaluation is presented. The major and driving change is being brought about by the existence of the Internet and the resulting unassailable fact that the real estate here for words has no cost except time. It is this change from print journalism and all the limits that print created that is driving the expansion of shape and form.

Why limit oneself to 25 to 40 words as the Spectator and Enthusiast do—or even the 75 to 150 works that appear in CGCW tasting notes? The real estate is free—so why not just let loose and begin and end where the story takes you? That change is already happening at CGCW. The length of those tasting notes meriting extra attention has more or less doubled in size when the story merits that kind of length. But, for us at least, and I believe that this dictum applies to all comprehensive reviewers, grand and great tasting notes are find in small doses, but if any reviewer ever gets it in his or her mind to write hundreds of those in a single issue, that reviewer will find his readers going to sleep.

There is, however, the chance that writers of fewer tasting notes at a time will find that great length is an appreciated form. Such tasting notes will focus only on wines that the writer has greatly enjoyed, and the tasting note will take the form of a love letter of sorts. It will consist of story, uses with food, changes in the wine over time after opening and any other anecdotal information that fits. Frankly, that is not really new wine writing. Gerald Asher has been doing it for decades, and others long before that.

It will be a kind of writing that is not meant to separate the wheat from the chaff. That form of analysis will still belong to the subscription-based media because no one is going to taste through hundreds of wines and write comprehensive tasting notes without getting paid. And the likelihood is that some form of rating system, whether hundred points or some newly desired system of symbolic notation, will accompany those tasting notes. No, love letter tasting notes will not replace the work of CGCW or the Spectator or Parker.

Love letter tasting notes will become more popular. In fact, they already have. But the demise of the traditional tasting note is a long way off, and if history is any guide, that “long way off” may never come.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
A Few People Diss Napa—The Wines Answer Back This Weekend

Fri, 22 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

There is excitement in the air hereabouts. The 2013 version of Premiere Napa has begun. Things kick into high gear today and culminate in Saturday’s barrel-tasting and auction of wines from 200 or so of Napa Valley’s top producers. There are countless tasting events scheduled for today, and, once our morning coffee has cooled, we will be on our ways north to visit more than a few.

Now, there are those who would have us believe that Napa Valley has somehow lost its way and has broken its cultural convenant with wine lovers. We are told that it is the wasteland of big business and celebrity money and that its wines, according to one critic, have become swollen caricatures of themselves.

All of the wines taste the same, we are instructed; over-ripe, over-oaked and over-priced, and the noble concerns of true terroir and place have been wholly abandoned in pursuit of the really big bucks that 100-point scores guarantee. Napa is Rome in decline, and only a small cadre, a very small fringe of talented, iconoclastic winemakers can save California wine and resurrect true winemaking art.

Are there formulaic, over-the-top wines to be found? Yes. Has Napa Valley attracted a good many folks with very deep pockets? Sure, and anyone who has spent even a few hours there will understand why. It is, after all, a fairly gorgeous place. But, notions that Napa Valley is now wholly governed by soulless corporations and bored investment bankers whose bottom-line ethos has killed the winemaking dream are complete and utter nonsense. Such broadsides might be useful in stirring the disloyal opposition and rallying those who have their own odd axes to grind, but they, not the wines they seek to condemn, are what have become predictably formulaic and tiresome.

Now please do not consider my morning musings as a starry-eyed love note to Napa Valley. Not every wine of its provenance is great, and plenty of them fail to excite. But, I still hold that, as an appellation, it is unsurpassed in consistently producing fine California Cabernet Sauvignon of the first order, and that it offers up dozens and dozens of remarkably good bottlings of everything from Chardonnay to Zinfandel to Sauvignon Blanc to Merlot every year.

I am no more a cheerleader for Napa than for the Russian River Valley, Dry Creek, the Santa Cruz Mountains, Santa Barbara or the Sonoma Coast and regularly revel in the wonderful quality and variety to be found in one and all. I do find it hard to remain silent, however, when faced with silly, reductionist, downright ignorant ramblings about the decline and fall of Napa Valley.

I confess to at least a bit of home-team pride, and Napa Valley may be as close to home as it is to my heart, but it needs no defense from me or everyone else. At the end of the day, it is all about what is in the glass, and I suspect I will raise mine with real pleasure more than once over the next two days.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
The Old News—The New News

Wed, 20 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Last night, at our Tuesday night tasting, one of our regulars chided us for not blogging on Monday. “How am I going to know how to think?”, he asked if you don’t tell me what’s new in the world and how I am supposed to understand it.

His little joke, of course, was meant to remind us that there are more words than there are new news in the wine business. I was thinking about that and how to prove him wrong as I perused a couple of dozen wine columns this morning. And what I discovered was more old news than new news. But, because I am worried about my friend’s mental health, I am going to help him understand what news there is.

For example, take the recent column in the Wine Spectator by its blogger, Jennifer Fiedler, entitled “What’s wrong with complexity?” in which she takes issue with another Spectator writer, Matt Kramer and his definition, and then the one comment on her criticisms of Kramer is from noted writer, Harvey Steiman who takes issue with both of them. Now, Ms. Fiedler is certainly not the experienced hand of the caliber of Kramer or Steiman. She is probably not half the age of either of them, and judging by her definition of complexity, she has clearly perplexed both of them.

Here is the new news from Ms. Fiedler: “ . . . .good wine evokes a sense of motion and movement. When I taste a really good wine, I feel like I'm driving fast in a car or being pulled up into the sky by a rope”. If you want the old news, you will need to read Mr. Steiman’s classic response, or better yet, go back to Steve Eliot’s blog of last Friday entitled, “Finding Great Wines—The Search For Utter Brilliance”. Now, I don’t mind when twenty-somethings try to redefine classic wine understandings, but this new news is meant for those who think being pulled up into the sky on a rope is a good thing. For me, I will go with the notion of extreme joy at the layering and unfolding of a wine in its many and intended pieces. That may be the old news but it still works for me.

On an entirely different front, there is the continuing debate about “natural wines”. Never mind that the term has no definition and that there is no wine in the world that is 100% free of the winemaker’s hand, those who profess to be making natural wine will nevertheless have you believe that their non-existent “naturalness” is better for you. This is a debate that has no end but many lies purporting to be new news such as this horrific statement, “Wines that are not natural are indigestible”. But, since that statement is nothing more than the usual poppycock spouted by those who think their way is the only way, it is not new news at all. It is just poppycock,and the world has been full of that commodity for centuries.

And, finally, today, we are left with the news that Antonio Galloni, who was anointed by Mr. Parker to take over for him in his semi-retirement, has flown the coop and will set up on his own. This genuine new news set the wine commenting world alight and by now you have read more words on that topic than you care to ingest or digest, and you perhaps found something of them indigestible—just like the wines you have been drinking all your life.

Now, I admit to being fascinated by the continuing twists and turns of the Parker saga, but there is one part of this new news that is very old news. Every time someone takes a swipe at the “dying” Parker empire, that person invariably also takes a swipe at all wine criticism and tells us that every part of the writing industry involved in evaluating and rating wine is now dead and does not know it. This, of course, is really old news. It is part of the “I am young and know what I like so why should I pay someone to tell me what to drink” disdain for whatever it is that has come before. And we have seen it play out now for decades and more as first one wine critical approach and then another has been proclaimed to be dead—only to find that it is not wine criticism that is dead but only the current authors. And believe me, after nearly forty years at this stand, and having seen Parker and Laube and Steiman and Heimoff get to an age at which retirement is a lot closer than commencement, I understand. But what these fools fail to realize is that there are well-over a million and counting people who subscribe to the various wine publications and their number are not dropping. They continue to increase. The new news is the wine writing world is continuing just fine, thank you. And that is also the old news, because it has been forever thus. It was that way when I started writing back in 1974 and it will be that way when someone as yet unknown is writing Connoisseurs’ Guide in another forty years.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Finding Great Wines—The Search For Utter Brilliance

Fri, 15 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Just what is it that separates very good wines from the great ones? Is it all in the eye of the beholder? Are some varietals inherently incapable of producing truly great wines? Are Cabernet, Syrah, Pinot, Nebbiolo, Riesling and Chardonnay really the only grapes that deserve the 95+ point reviews that nothing else ever seems to receive?

In the world of wine journalism, these questions are not new, but neither are they at all settled. These days, if you search long enough, you will find a champion for most every grape that has ever been fermented into wine, and, in some circles, obscurity seems to be seen as a virtue. It is as if “new” has become synonymous to “important”, or at least a prerequisite for it. The look-at-me race to be first in touting a new old grape seems ever more crowded, yet at the end of the day, the classics do seem to prevail.

I think there are reasons. Humankind is not new to the winemaking game, and if certain grapes are accorded higher standing than others, it probably has something to do with centuries of experience. I do not think, however, that the club of truly great wines is absolutely exclusive and one of permanently barred doors.

Greatness for me is measured by a wine’s varietal accuracy, its intensity, complexity, beauty and balance… and by balance I do not mean high acid and low alcohol, but rather the way a wine’s pieces all fit together in a manner that no one aspect is so dominant as to make moot all the others. It all comes down to the unquantifiable ability of a wine to deliver a broad range of character. Being delicious is fine, but greatness demands something more, and the “more” has to do with a wine’s capacity to involve and draw me more deeply in.

Now there is no question but that for me that has happened far more often with the Big Six varietals mentioned above, but encounters with what I would call greatness have come from supposed lesser contenders as well.

As but one case in point, one of last year’s great eye-openers here at CGCW was the remarkable Stolpman “La Croce”, a blend of Sangiovese and Syrah, and I hold fast to my belief that fine Sauvignon Blanc gets far less respect than it should. Anyone who has had the pleasure of tasting the compelling Pouilly Fumés of the late Didier Dagueneau surely knows what I mean, and a glass of the latest “Essence” from Grgich Hills -- the catalyst for today’s musings by the way-- will leave anyone scratching their heads and wondering why so many regard the grape as a second-class citizen. And, please, do not get me started on the topic of Zinfandel.

Yes, I do expect more from the so-called “classics,” and with experience has come a certain set of standards I want them to meet. That said, my four-decade search of discovery is as exciting now as it ever was, and some of the most satisfying and memorable moments of all have been those when greatness appears in the least likely places.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
How To Know When Your Wine Has Too Much Oak

Wed, 13 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Last night was one of those moments when a bunch of fancy Cabernets leaves us scratching our collective heads. At Connoisseurs’ Guide, a typical tasting consists of two flights of eight wines tasted blind. That task, the joy of our role in life, takes about three hours—and then we eat.

Now, I don’t want to say that last night’s wines were awful or anything like that. How can a batch of wines, most of which come with price tags from $45 to $100, be anything but wonderful?

Think about that question for a moment. Sixteen expensive wines and not a one of them set our little hearts aflutter. The most frequently heard question on the night was, “Would you pay $50 for that?” And the most frequently heard answer was, “No”.

Please understand. In our business, there are going to nights like that. It is in the nature of tasting hundreds of wines each month in order to keep our faithful band of readers informed. It goes with the territory. But one does have to wonder when a simple, $23 wine comes out top over all those high-priced spreads in our taste-tests just because we could find the fruit.

And that is the answer to the puzzle we posed in the title line. How do you know when your wine has too much oak? It is simple really. It is when your $50 wine tastes like cedar and toast and caramel and gets its clock cleaned by a modest effort of modest ambition being sold at a modest price. There is nothing wrong with that $23 wine. It will wind up as one of our highly recommended GOOD VALUES in our April report on a broad sweep California Cabernets. And, there will be plenty of fancy, highly oaked wines that will be recommended because they will have delivered the balancing fruit and acidity and not be just exercises in oak and ripeness and fifteen-year tannins.

How do you know when your wine has too much oak? It is when someone asks if one should spend $50 for your $50 Cabernet and the answer is “No”.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
The Viognier Buzz

Mon, 11 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

There was a time when Viognier was generating a good deal of buzz in the California wine scene, but these days it is a little talked-about wine and seems, with a few notable exceptions, to have settled into a state benign neglect hereabouts. At its best, it produces wines of extraordinary richness, wines that are simply brimming with layer upon layer of downright opulent fruit and can, in the hands of its masters, reveal real complexity, but its head-turning successes are few, and even they win nothing more than polite and fairly muted applause.

We all thought that Viognier might be the Next Big Thing. Its early local successes in the 1980s and 1990s were sufficient to justify the claim that California had saved the grape from oblivion and was instrumental in the revitalization of Viognier in Southern France. In subsequent years, however, it has somewhat sadly joined Sangiovese as a varietal that struggled and locally and has failed to find a following in its new home. It never managed to catch on with the average wine drinker, and was, after an all-too-brief love affair, abandoned by the elite arbiters of taste for whom scarcity and searing acidity have more recently become a wine’s most important attributes. It was curiously enough declared the official state grape of Virginia by the Virginia Wine Board a couple of years back, so it is not wholly unloved, but that fact remains that its west coast champions are few.

True, it is at best a fickle friend in the vineyard with a precariously narrow window for picking between when it is still green and the time that it lapses into dull overripeness, but winemakers with a real sense for the grape have produced serious and satisfying Viogniers of both richness and nuance. They simply have not done it enough or with the kind of consistency to generate the broad-based following that ultimately defines success. And, while there were a few years in which R. H. Phillips managed to produce a significant quantity of good Viognier at a very affordable price, the better bottlings from wineries like Gregory Graham, Pride, DuMol, Eberle, Pride, Calera and Cold Heaven have been either expensive or sadly short in supply…and too often both.

Now it may be that the fortunes of Viognier will not change, but it has not been nor likely will be wholly abandoned. It is not yet time to write its epitaph. Those who chose to make it -- and make it well – no doubt feel the pains of Sisyphus, but whereas the deceitful king was punished with a life of meaningless repetition, they should know that there are at least a few of us left who believe they may yet reach the top of the hill.

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Friday Fishwrap
Honesty In The Wine-Critic Industry

Fri, 08 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

The other day, Steve Heimoff and I were vamping about how one goes about doing wine reviews when a winery sends a truckload of offerings of the same variety. The topic at hand turned out to be the dozen-plus Pinot Noirs from Williams Selyem. Steve commented that the wine inspiration at WS, Bob Cabral has pointedly requested reviews done in tastings with peer competitors, and I chimed in that Mr. Cabral has made the same request of CGCW. The ensuing discussion led to a question from Tom Barras, he of the eponymously named blog*.

The question, raised straightforwardly enough, challenged Steve and me to confront the problem of reviewing wines made by people that we know and have come to like. It was a fair question so I have brought it and my answer here for your pleasure and what is a dreary Friday morning here in northern California and promises worse weather elsewhere.

THE QUESTION
Steve and Charlie,

The two of you have much experience that goes beyond the wine you are tasting. I envy that, as I’m sure others do.

You likely personally know the winemaker, his/her family, their viti and vini-cultural history and philosophy, and their committment to making a wine that transcends the very average pour. Your connection often goes beyond rating the wine . . . or at least it should. You likely break bread with them.

For lack of a better term, you are somewhat “connected” to many of them, and as such, it may have some effect on the way you review and critique their efforts. Positive reviews are no issue, but would imagine that anything other than that could be troubling for you.

Can you comment on those relationships?

Tom

MY ANSWER
I know nothing. Nothing I tell you. I hate all winemakers. They are capitalist pigs. Break bread with them? I would rather break their bungs.

And then I woke up.

It is true enough that one cannot work deeply into the wine business, especially when one lives essentially in wine country as I do–and Steve does, with getting to know and even to become friends with many of the people whose wines we review.

One of the ways that writers have of avoiding the negative is to avoid publishing negative reviews. That is a somewhat harder task for comprehensive reviewers, but some publications, and I think WE is one of them, limit the damage by not publishing notes under 80 points. Steve will confirm or amend that understanding.

My publication, which started as tasting notes by a couple of consumer/collectors and does not take advertising, has a policy of publishing reviews on every wine we taste–no punches pulled. We at least partly cover our backsides by tasting a second bottle of every wine getting a bad review. And of course, we also retaste, as I mentioned in my comments above about Williams Selyem, those wines that will be recommended highly. All of those wines are tasted blind.

But even that policy as regards negative reviews does not save us from the wrath of the wineries. I could name a couple of dozen wineries that refuse to talk to Connoisseurs’ Guide anymore because our reviews did not live up to their expectations/desires. Sometimes, a chat will help them see that we have no axe to grind, but others treat us as pariahs for telling the truth as we have seen it twice.

I respect the rights of any winery to send or not send wine, to be open and helpful or to be recalcitrant and obnoxious as they see fit. They do not owe us a living, anymore than we owe them anything.

It does get a bit silly at times, though. There is a Napa Valley winery whose expensive PN and Chard got consistently top review for years running until one wine, from the 2006 vintage, was given the dastardly rating 86 points. The winery owner sent me an unpleasant letter saying they would never deal with us again. I called her up and wondered how it was that she could be so out of sorts over one review in ten years over two varieties. “It is clear”, sayeth the raging lady, “that you no longer understand our wines”.

There are two bottom lines here: We have always purchased wines for our tastings and we continued to review the wines from her winery with bottles that we got at K & L or Wine Club or Jacksons or wherever. The reviews were done blind. The ratings were generally good, and then a funny thing happened. Her wines, not quite as well received broadly as before because they were fat, ripe, high in oak and violated the sacred rules laid down by the upstart sommeliers and Jon Bonne, began to lose traction in the marketplace. And lo and behold, all of a sudden those wines were showing up again on the UPS truck.

We don’t penalize her winery because she is an obnoxious rich socialite who inherited a winery at a young age, and we do not upgrade the scores of wineries whose owners are good people.

One final story. One of those winemakers with whom one can sometimes get to be friends became a family friend. He lived around the corner, we played soccer together, went out to nice dinners around SF, and I was asked to be the godfather to his son. I had no hesitation because it was personal at the family level. Not soon thereafter, he released his one and only Chardonnay and it was oxidized and volatile and got 75 points and loud raspberry by way of a review.

The point is that we live by the accuracy of what we write. Some wineries stop talking to us and some do not. That is their right.

Does this deny that friendship can be an influence? I often ask myself that question, and my best answer is that I dare not recommend wines that people will not like lest they stop subscribing to my magazine and I therefore stop enjoying the lifestyle to which I have become accustomed.

* http://tombarraswinecommentary.blogspot.com/

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Wednesday Warblings
Analyzing Imbalance In The Supply/Demand Equation

Wed, 06 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Surplus has been the norm in international wine production for the last thirty or so years, but according to a recent report by Wine Intelligence, a company specializing in global wine-market analysis, things changed significantly in 2012. For the first time in a long time, wine supply and consumer demand are roughly equal, and the implications of such equilibrium might be profound.

Despite the fact that starting in the 1970s the international wine market has seen striking change, the world’s thirst for wine and the amount that has been produced have been amazingly constant, and there has, over the years, always been more of the stuff made than we have been able to drink. Simple math would then lead one to conclude that a “buyer’s market” has therefore been the norm for decades, but, at least for the nonce, the landscape is changed.

Due to significant consumer demand from new Asian markets, the steady decline in production on the parts of traditional producers like Italy and France and less-than-favorable weather conditions in many of the world’s wine-growing regions, surplus is gone and a “seller’s market” has begun.

What, then, is in store for those of us at the very end of the supply chain in the new order of things? It is reasonable to expect higher prices and far fewer bargains, and, as the recent metamorphosis of Trader Joe’s “Two-Buck Chuck” into “Two-Fifty Chuck” suggests, change has already begun.

Last summer, we heard from one winemaker after the next that prices for grapes were on the rise and that competition for top-quality fruit was growing increasingly fierce well in advance of harvest. As excited as they and we are about the quality of California wines in 2012, it does not take much of a crystal ball to predict that the cost of production will be reflected in the price tags of those finished wines. Similarly, we expect that those who make wines at the lower end of the price spectrum will have to work harder to find fruit, and those who ply their trades as “negociants” will have an especially difficult time procuring steady and consistent supplies.

The question must be asked, of course, “is this new market calculus permanent, or is it a momentary anomaly owing to quirks in the weather and a sudden rise in demand that the industry has yet to address?” It is a question that will be answered in time, and if history is any guide, demand will lead to new plantings and back to the typical equilibrium in which optimism leads consumption. For now, all signs point to a few years in which wine lovers might have to pay a bit more and work a bit harder in finding noteworthy values, and it is hard to argue with the conclusion of the Wine Intelligence report that “it’s clear that 2013 will not be the year of bargain wine.”

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Monday Manifestos
The Voice of The People Will Hit You Like A Ton of Bricks

Mon, 04 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I grew up a long time ago. I was a child of the sixties. Of the Civil Rights and Ban The Bomb and Anti-Vietnam War movements. No, I was no hippy radical. I went to two fine schools, earned my multiple degrees in Economics and Business Administration. Joined the Army regardless of my belief that we did not belong in Vietnam. I was as a middle of the road as can be except that I believed in fairness, equality, peaceful protest, the rights of the people to be heard and that made me an activist of sorts.

Today, in wine, the voice of the consumer is heard loud and clear when it comes to the rise and fall of wineries and varieties. It was the consumer who made Chardonnay into the wine it has become. The wineries were certainly complicit, and who knows how long it might have taken if folks like Hanzell and Stony Hill had not given the grape a push.

But there is a major area of our vinous world in which the consumers are silent more often than not, and that is in the area of the whys and wherefores of wine distribution. We may speak collectively with our dollars in the wine retail markets, but when it comes to government action and the laws that govern what we can or cannot get, how we are allowed to interact with the market and who listens to the consumer, the sad answer is very often a big zero.

Yesterday, Tom Wark, whose brilliant blog, Fermentation, has paid great attention the issue of wine distribution and consumer rights published an article that hit me like a ton of bricks. How, in the 21st Century can legislatures anywhere consider laws governing the sale and distribution of wine and listen only to the industry without giving so much as a chance for the consumers to speak.

I strongly endorse Mr. Wark’s article and produce it here in full with his kind permission. It is time for the consumers to be heard everywhere. When they are heard, the laws will change to allow reasonable and well-managed access to wine. Please read on. It is time for action.

====================================

“Every now and then, someone asks the right question.

“Yesterday, the right question was asked by Frank Cagle in the context of the political battle in Tennessee over whether or not to allow wine in grocery stores. Frank asked:

“Why Won’t Legislators Listen to Constituents Instead of Liquor Lobbyists?”

“There is a good answer to that question: They don’t have a voice.

“It doesn’t matter what the question is. Winery Shipping. Wine Retailer Shipping. Wine in Grocery stores. Whenever these questions are asked, it’s the wineries, retailers, wholesalers and regulators that have the ear of lawmakers simply because there is no voice of the wine consumer. They have no representation.

“And in those rare instances when consumers are asked what they want, such as in Washington where spirit sales were privatized by the vote of the citizens, you’ve got wholesalers claiming the process was manipulated, as though consumers are too stupid to understand the stakes.

“No matter what they say, the institutional interests within the wine, beer and spirits industry don’t represent the interests of consumers. And they never will. When wineries seek to open states for direct shipping, it’s in the interests of wineries, not consumers. When retailers seek the same right to ship wine, its in the interests of retailer. When wholesalers try to stop all reforms to the archaic and anti-competitive three-tier system, it’s in the interests of wholesalers.

“In Tennessee, the liquor trade has fought tooth and nail to assure consumers don’t get what they want. Now they are fighting to stop the possibility of even voting to determine if local areas and cities can vote to have local grocery stores sell wine. It’s a farce that is still being played out because there is no loud, responsible and consistent voice of the wine consumer.

“That silence needs to end.”

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Zinfandel Makes The Wining World Go Round

Wed, 30 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot and Charles Olken

Zinfandel was one of the first wines that I learned to love. I was aware from the first that Bordeaux was worthy of high respect and dutifully bowed in its direction whenever appropriate, and Burgundy mesmerized like some Gordian knot that I knew would take years to unravel, but it was Zinfandel that fired my earliest vinous passions. I still fondly recall the varied Ridge bottlings from the early 1970s and their lessons in the truth of terroir, the impeccably crafted, remarkably long-lived efforts from Joseph Swan and the sturdy, deeply flavored versions of Amador County that brought first awareness of what old vines could mean.

More significant to my practical wine education, however, was the simple fact that there were plenty of good Zins that fit with minimal discomfort into my otherwise strained graduate-school budget. I could actually afford to drink the stuff, and, happily, familiarity did not breed contempt. It was the beginning of life-long fascination and friendship.

The many years between then and now have seen Zinfandel’s fortunes wax and wane and wax yet again, but, as fellow devoted true-believers well know, there are and have always been very good wines to be had at prices that allow for more than occasional drinking.

As our January issue confirmed once again, Zinfandel still earns a nod for being among the better California red wine values to be had. There are a good many thoroughly satisfying offerings priced near $20.00 and less that will bring smiles to old hands and tyros alike, and, while hardly an exhaustive list of worthy wines, the half-dozen recommendations that follow are among our top picks of those that deliver plenty of pleasurable bang for the buck.

And for those of you in the Bay Area, this is the weekend for ZAP’s annual tasting extravaganza. Go to the ZAP website for details. The Thursday evening event features several dozen wineries pouring their wares alongside matching foods provided by leading restaurants. And Saturday’s grand tasting, with hundreds of wineries, is one of the highlights of the year. Zin lovers should not miss it. www.zinfandel.org/festival/

90 NAPA CELLARS Zinfandel Napa Valley 2010 $22.00
With its sights set on beautifully rendered ripe-berry fruit that is enriched by wonderfully sympathetic sweet oak at every stop, this immensely satisfying Zinfandel garners high marks for its focus persistence, and balance, all of which makes it into one of the best current values to be had. It is so well-crafted and polished that it invites early drinking and there would seem to be few reasons for waiting, but further beauty awaits those who can exercise even two or three years of patience. And we suspect, that it will still be rewarding for several years beyond that.

90 SEGHESIO Zinfandel Sonoma County 2011 $24.00
By every report and what we have seen in early tastings, 2011 is an uneven vintage, especially as far as red wines are concerned. This extremely well-made working proves that, as always, very good wines await those willing to search, and it hits the varietal mark smartly. It is precise in its focus on ripe berries and briary spice, and it is particularly well-balanced with fine energy and a long, very firm finish. It is still on the tight side and we would argue against hasty drinking, but it is an easy-odds bet to grow and improve for another three to five years.

88 FIDDLETOWN CELLARS Old Vine Zinfandel Amador County 2010 $19.00
Playing more to Zinfandel's raspberry potential than to the black fruits side of its personality, this full-bodied and balanced wine allows layers of dark soils and briary spice into the picture as it airs. Its supple and slightly fleshy first impressions on the palate are firmed up by a wave of tannin, and the wine promises to serve well both now and over the next half decade or so.

87 EASTON Zinfandel Amador County 2011 $18.00
Here is a solid young Zinfandel that exhibits both the ripeness and spice that we expect from Amador County versions, and, if it makes no pretense to polish, the wine is fleshy and balanced with well-managed heat and a bit of firming tannins for grip. It will do the trick now as a gutsy companion to hearty barbecue fare, but it promises to grow for a bit and should be better yet in a couple of years.

87 THREE Old Vines Zinfandel Contra Costa County 2010 $20.00
The least expensive of the Three Zinfandels collection is, at least in the near term, our pick of the lot. If still geared to ripeness, it sports a little more fruity vitality and extension, and it does not possess quite the same sense of heat. That said, it is far from a delicate wine and has plenty of meat on its ample bones. It can be enjoyed in the near term, but it has enough structure for a few years of rewarding development in the bottle.

85 CLINE Zinfandel California 2011 $10.00
It is far from being a definitive Zin, and it is not a wine of great depth or dimension, but this bottling does show the varietal's specific berryish fruit, and it is far better balanced than the soft and spineless versions that are more often than not found at its price point. It is a bit rough at the edges and will surely smooth with age, but it is not one for lengthy keeping all the same.

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Monday Manifestos
In Clothing Or Wine, Here Come The Women

Mon, 28 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Consider this headline: “Men's clothing for women growing as the next Bay Area fashion trend.”

Now apply it to wine. I say apply it to wine because I really don’t know much about the clothing business, but I do know a thing or two about wine, and, despite arguments that there is a “women’s palate” that is somehow different from men’s, I rather look askance at the notion that women are somehow less able to stomach a full-bodied wine.

What I think instead is that women make wine and women like wine based on their own unique palatal preferences, and that those palatal preferences grow experientially just as men’s palates grow. Was my palate gender-confused when I used to like softer, rounder wines whose slurpy natures made them so easy to gulp down? Is my wife now spot on because she likes slurpy wines and really does not want me to bring a young, tight red to the table to accompany her standing rib roast or her crown rack of lamb? The fact is that Mrs. Olken tastes several thousand fewer wines per year than I do, and I would argue that her preference for older reds is based on accessibility, not some geeky potential that I read into wines whose tannins I must filter out with my mustache.

To be sure, I doubt that Mrs. Olken will be running out for her fill of men’s clothing. But, I don’t really care so long as what she wears, and what she buys for me, fits and looks good. I will admit that she looks a helluva lot better in her clothes than I do in mine—but that is a story for another time.

When I look at the wines crafted by Helen Turley and Heidi Barrett and Carol Shelton and Merry Edwards, there is nothing uniquely “feminine” about what they make. They make wine. They make wine with depth, balance, character, adherence to varietal norms. Indeed, they make wine very well.

I was amused by the clothing article because it suggested that there were not enough man-looking clothes tailored for women, and I guess I would have no grounds to disagree. But in wine, my sense is that wines are not necessarily tailored for female palates but for palates that have certain bases for preference, and almost all of those bases are experiential, not gender-driven.

My headline says: “Here come the women”. I take it back. It should have read. The women in wine are here with us-—thank goodness.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Zinfandel Thoughts and Tasty Drops

Wed, 23 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

It still may not get quite the respect it deserves, but Zinfandel is far from being the black sheep it once was, and its growing legions of fans show a special kind of devotion. They, like Zinfandel itself, tend to be an unsubtle bunch with a certain largesse of spirit, and they are vehement in their defense of the grape and do not hold back in their celebration of the same. I would not call them unruly, but the words “proper” and “prim” do not leap to mind either, and they about to bring their own special energy to San Francisco next week as the annual Zinfandel, Advocates and Producers’ (ZAP) festival is set to commence on January 31.

This year’s festival begins on Thursday with one of our favorite events, the Zinfandel Epicuria: Food and Zinfandel Pairings, a walk-around tasting of some fifty wines matched up with various dishes created by local chefs to show off the best of the grape. The gathering concludes three days later with Saturday’s epic Grand Tasting of several hundred wines, more than anyone could hope to taste even if there are always a few who will try.

2012 saw a welcome shift in venue for ZAP’s big tasting from the waterfront warehouses of Fort Mason to its new home in the warmer, more comfortable digs of the Concourse at Brannan and 8th streets, and, while we have been longtime friends and sponsors of the festival, we could not be more pleased at the difference in the feel of the event that relocation has made. If you have not attended lately, it is time to check in again.

There are new discoveries to be made every year, and, among last year’s very pleasant surprises, the new Beekeeper label and a raft of very good wines from Proulx were standouts. There are certain to be new stories to tell once this year’s incarnation has come to an end, and, we confess to being a bit anxious to get our first large-scale look at the soon-to-be-released Zinfandels from the challenging 2011 vintage. We will have more to say on the topic a couple of weeks hence, so stay tuned.

We, of course, will as always be attending both the Thursday and Saturday events and encourage you to drop by the Connoisseurs’ Guide table to say hello.

There are tickets still available and plenty of time in which to sign on for what promises to be three eye-opening days of delicious drinking and good eats with a bit of education tossed in as well. You can find out more about ZAP’s Zinfandel gala at the link listed below.

We hope to see you there.
http://www.zinfandel.org/default.asp?n1=28&n2=1085&member

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Bordeaux 2010--Price Is Always A Consideration

Mon, 21 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

You will read plenty of words about the about to be released Bordeaux 2010s in the coming days and weeks. That is because their makers are touring the country by the hundreds stopping in major cities along the way and pouring wine for any and all who will swirl and sip. Most of the attendees, all of whom are supposed to have industry credentials, do a good job of spitting as well, but, as at all events of its type, there are more than a few who wind up spilling wine or breaking glasses by the time the day is out.

I apologize for that diversion, but I have to admit that I was surprised to see my doctor standing there tasting—but I expect that he was not among those who failed to expecorate. I lost him in the crowd and never did track him down to find out how he had translated his love of wine into an invitation to one of the most interesting of the annual tasting events that pass our ways.

One reason you will read lots about the Bordeaux 2010s is that lots of writers attended, and we like having something to write about. Another is that the wines were quite impressive. Indeed, the wine press, especially those whose voices are strongest or firstest to print, is going to be falling all over itself proclaiming two great vintages in a row. And it is hard to argue with that notion. But, I am going to predict that when all is said and done, it will be the bolder 2009s that steal the march from the generally more elegant and classically stated 2010s.

That is lesson one from this tasting. No two vintages are alike, and if one prefers are Bordeaux for the cellar that is still a bit wound up and not showing itself at the earliest possible moment, then 2010 will be your cup of tannin regardless of what I expect to see in reviews that are simply not as over-the-top in enthusiasm as those of the 2009s. We will have much more to say on this subject ourselves when our full tasting notes are published in our March Issue and are also presented here in The Connoisseur’s Wine Blog.

Lesson two is about price. With the world economy heating up enough to take the sting out of excess capacity, and countries around the world emerging from also-ran status as wine consumers to highly motivated collectors, wines like the reds of Bordeaux, always among the most collectible in the world for their beauty, their ageworthiness and their perceived value, are sure to rise in price. As a former professional economist, I have no axe to grind with the workings of the market place. Wine sells for what the market will bear. So do soap and luxury watches. As a follower of and commenter on California wine, I am of mixed feelings. On the one hand, the pricier Bordeaux gets, the more our Cabernets, already our most expensive wines, get to enjoy their competitive price advantage. On the other hand, the more expensive Bordeaux gets, the more expensive our Cabernets tend to get.

I have watched this price spiral for almost four decades now, and one thing seems to remain constant. It is the rare good vintage in which price falls. Bordeaux 2010 has turned out to be a fine vintage. It also looks likely to be an expensive one.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
The Real Inconvenient Truth--"Big Wine" Is Not All Bad

Fri, 18 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

A week or so back, there was a collective gasp as a Michigan State University study revealed that a good 50% of all wines consumed in America were made by three large corporate concerns, and that somehow this revelation was profoundly germane to the wine writer’s world.

I really doubt that many genuine wine professionals, from writers to retailers to restaurateurs, were at all surprised at the findings, and any who really knew their business have long been aware of the Big Wine presence. It is nothing new.

As a result of the study’s unsurprising conclusion, there have been claims that wine writers, for widely disparate reasons, were irresponsible and dangerously out of touch with some significant reality or that they have been silent accomplices in Big Wine deceit. One side makes populist accusations that wine writers are elitist and unconcerned about the stuff that Everyman really drinks. Others opine that they have abdicated their responsibility to connect the dots between widely distributed labels and their corporate masters and have been, as one writer puts it “appallingly complicit in avoiding this inconvenient truth.”

I confess that I am still trying to plumb the meaning of the latter and wonder if it is meant to imply that all Big Wine is crap and that it is time for Big Wine producers and distributors to reform their greedy ways and to embrace true winemaking “art.” I suppose that Big is so obviously bad that explanation need not follow. Pardon me, however, if I do not agree with either “principled” stance.

I might in my own way admire the unbridled populism of the internet, but professional writing by definition needs an audience if it is to survive. While I would never look down on those whose find pleasure in the inexpensive, industrial wines that fail to interest me, I have yet to hear any plausible argument that those consumers might value or, for that matter, remotely desire commentary, evaluation or opinion from paid professional scribes; no more, I suspect, than local loyal patrons of Burger King, Jack-in-the-Box and McDonalds are up in arms because they are ignored by the food critics of the San Francisco Chronicle.

Conversely, I do not sense some gnawing frustration in the masses and a rising indignation that they are being misled by Big Wine, and that they are waiting for an articulate champion to free them from their chains. Moreover the implied supposition that Big Wine is somehow the enemy is disconcerting. Is the fact that Louis Martini, MacMurray or William Hill are owned by Gallo or that Ravenswood is a small part of the Constellation conglomerate mean that the wines are inherently dishonest and not worth drinking? Is there a conspiracy at work whereby Big Wine is intent at squeezing out every small winery and winemaker? The number of new independent wineries making their appearance in recent years would suggest otherwise, and there is a growing following for the “little guys”.

Wine means many things to many people, and, as with most any commodity where a wide spectrum of perceived quality exists, there will be those who strive for the best while others will be quite content with the rest. The free market governs sources of information as surely it does wine itself. Those who find their pleasures in connoisseurship will seek guidance as fits their needs. Others will comfortably find their ways by themselves, and, in the end, the happiness that each finds will be the same. We here at CGCW happen to write for those for whom fine wine has become something of a passion. Consumer Reports aims at a different and much larger group, and bloggers abound who cannot wait to tell you what wonderful bargains they have found. There is not nor can there be a source of information that is all things to all people, and I am guessing that if there was, it would prove to be unsatisfactory to all.

Is there an inconvenient truth about Big Wine? Maybe. But, it is hardly a new story. Big wine has always dominated wine distribution. The problem here is one of bias about producers rather than bias for good wine. The big distributors own many good and semi-independent labels like Etude and Ravenswood and MacMurray Ranch. Any prejudgment about their wines is so loaded with bias as to call into question the fairness of any reviewer who holds that their wines are a priori “crap”. That is the real inconvenient truth in this story.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
SF Chron’s Five Trends for 2013??—Nah, Not So Much

Wed, 16 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I have always fancied myself as a bit of a futurist. In a funny way, it was why I became a professional economist long before I found myself immersed in wine and changed occupations. I like thinking about how things will evolve. What is coming down the road.

I love the new baseball season because it gives me days and days of endless fascination as a I try to noodle out the futures for my favorite teams. I love Presidential elections. I am a futurist junkie, and I read predictions by the serious players like Nate Silvers and I sit there at my desk and make my own and work out the possible pathways to victory.

Wine is a much more slowly moving, slowly evolving topic than politics or sports, but it too can have its changes, its movements, its comings and goings. Some of them are real and substantial, but so much of what we wine geeks think is significant has zero meaning in the real world. And some of it is just pure fantasy. I don’t care. I read them all.

Last Sunday, the San Francisco Chronicle beat writer opined that there would be five significant moves in wine scene in 2013. Like all predictions, they are part futurist and part observation of the recent past. Trends do not come and go like the fog, and, with wine, they are frequently so slow-moving that what you think you see is more will of the wisp than reality. Or maybe it is just insider reality, when the rest of the world sees none of it.

That, unfortunately, is what our wine newspaper of record has given us. I apologize for looking like I am criticizing another writer. In fact, I applaud the attempt. One man’s future is as good as any other’s. One man’s Valdigue may taste like Domaine Romanee-Conti while another’s tastes like road tar. Still, I think it is worth looking at the predicted trends to see how real they are and what they mean. At one and the same time, both wisdom and fantasy lurk there—as they must also in my view of those predicted trends.

1. Changing Wine Style Hits The Mainstream

No matter how one looks at this so-called trend and the supposed arrival of “new”, it does not make a lot of sense. The “new” trend has always been with us. The lighter style of wine never disappeared, was not lost to some monolithic, overriding direction of all California wine that was universally too heavy, too sweet, too “boring”. Wineries like Marimar Estate, Gary Farrell, Pey-Marin, Dashe, Corison, Trefethen (and I could make this list five times longer without trying hard) are not new players. Cuvaison Chardonnay has almost always been an exercise in balance. And wines that are riper but beautifully balanced like Ramey and HdV Chardonnays, Ridge and Storybook Mountain Zinfandels, Williams Selyem and Dehlinger Pinot Noirs are not some new trend. They are the old trend that never disappeared. And folks, they are the mainstream because the mainstream is not monolithic but has always consisted of a variety of styles enjoyed by a wide audience.

2. Presence Of The Little Guys

Color me of mixed feelings here. This item is, in reality, just an adjunct to the point above. The writer has always scorned wine from large players. If it is made by Franciscan or Ravenswood or Etude, it gets lumped into a category called “big distributor crap”. The comparison offered is to the change in the beer world into which there are now hundreds if not thousands of microbreweries. And aside from some of my English favorite brews like Fullers and Sam Smith, which, by the way come from large volume companies, it is very true that the beer I drink now is never Budweiser or Coors. But is the same thing true of wine?

Not so much. I will admit that my presence in wine writing does not stretch back before 1970, my first collectible vintage (both French and Californian), but the wine boom of the 1970s, found its inauguration in the more modest beginnings of the 1960s. We don’t talk much about the 1960s in wine circles because most writers, including this old curmudgeon, do not remember it in detail. But let’s review the bidding. The “presence of the little guys” includes the following 1960s startups (all little guys at the time): Ridge, Heitz, Chalone, Spring Mountain, Freemark Abbey, Fetzer, David Bruce, Schramsberg, Chappellet (and this list can also be extended into next week, but I think the point is made). The little guys have always been driving forces. They bring new energy and new directions. Some look backward to the past to lost varieties and some are so avant-garde that their offerings are truly meant for the insiders and the hopeless “next big thing” seekers, of which I am proud to be one.

But, folks, if this is a trend, it started ages ago.

3. The Importance Of Old Vines

You will get no argument from me that old vines frequently give off very good, deep and complex wines. You will also get no argument from me if you point out, as some like Ridge have done, that old vines are a treasure. We have known about old vines, and that is all good. I am not sure how “Old Vines” could become a trend except in the few cases where they increase diversity in our wines because someone finds a stand of one-hundred year-old Cinsault in Lodi and all of a sudden we have a chance to add a splash of history to our bottlings. It is just that we have been celebrating these older vines for as long as I can remember. The hoary, twisted vines in Lodi, in Napa, in Sonoma, in the Sierra Foothills are widely celebrated on wine labels. So much so, in fact, that there is now a robust debate about how old a vine should be before someone can put the words “Old Vines” on the label.

On a more interesting bent to me personally is the maturation of vines planted thirty years ago when the industry had to replace Phylloxera-diseased vines with newer plant materials. Those vines are, in fact, getting older, but does that mean that the wines they produce are getting better? Not so sure that we can see “better” in older Russian River Pinot blocks than we saw in them twenty years ago.

Nor do I know what to make of this celebration of maturity in plant material. It strikes me as a little too close to label worship as opposed to taste worship. Sorry to be snippy about this, but the only way to judge wine is taste it.

4. Diversity Gets More Diverse

Now, we are talking my language. Bring on the Ribolla Gialla. Bring on the Blaufrankisch. Bring them all on. Just remember that if you want to taste Arinto, you will need to call around to the most avant-garde of the avant-garde restaurants to find it—because all this diversity, which we wine geeks love and on which our imaginations and curiosity thrive, are like one rain drop in a deluge. And while it is absolutely true that this diversity continues to expand and to make our insider’s world more diverse, my neighbors will still blithely be sipping their Chardonnays and will know no more about Arinto than they know about the minor league baseball players who will be their new heroes a half decade hence.

And by the way, in 1960, there was not enough Chardonnay in California to count in the annual grape acreage survey. Indeed, back in the day, it was lumped in under “other reds”. Hard to believe, but Chardonnay was once part of the California diversification program.

5. Rewriting Our Wine Language

This is a topic that no wine writer should ever touch lest we go back and pull out his or her flowery phrasings and hold them up to the harsh light of clear communication. There have always been writers whose word choices could be described, as they were some forty years ago by Leigh Knowles, the crusty head of Beaulieu at the time, as belonging to the “prismatic luminescence” school of winewriting.

Every writer, at some time, gets carried away with the search for the well-turned phrase, and, that is as true for the SF Chronicle’s beat writer as it has always been for all of us. So when I read words like “perhaps 2013 is the year when we start to worry less about trying to impress our friends and more about finding ways to honestly exalt what’s in the glass”, I cringe just a bit for his lack of self-awareness. If you doubt me, go read his descriptions of Barolos in last Sunday’s paper. He is, after all, a winewriter, trying to write soaring words about wines he likes. And, in that, he joins us all in occasionally drifting into the “prismatic luminescence” school.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Too Many Pinots…Or Too Little Patience?

Mon, 14 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

It has been argued by some that there are now simply too many individually bottled, vineyard-designated Pinot Noirs in California these days, and as we put the finishing touches to the upcoming February edition of Connoisseurs’ Guide featuring that very much loved variety, I suppose there are moments in which I am inclined to agree.

Oh, not that I think the wines’ too-similar voices make such differentiation pointless or that the imperatives of technique and terroir go largely unnoticed from one bottle to the next, it is just that trying to write to each one’s specific is just too damned much work. Life would easier if Pinot producers would stop being so obsessive and precious.

Well folks, do not expect the trend to multiple bottlings to ease anytime soon, and, in fact, every sign points to the opposite scenario wherein more and more vintners follow the leads of astute students of Pinot who have found that the varietal is, in fact, wonderfully sensitive to its site and that even slight variations in exposure and soil are not so hard to ken. Generation after generation in Burgundy have understood this simple truth, and I have to chuckle a bit at those who somehow seem to believe that the notion somehow lacks validity here.

Three decades have passed since Acacia offered Pinots from five different Carneros vineyards and changed the way that we look at California Pinot Noir, but segregating and bottling wines parcel by parcel is finally becoming the norm rather than the exception for local devotees of the grape. And, I would argue, it does not take a remarkably practiced palate or some unique gift of perception and insight to understand why. The proof, as always, lies with what is in the bottle, and the evidence is hard to refute.

I have gradually becomes more convinced that the inherent differences from one Pinot plot to the next are a little more manifest in challenging vintages such as 2010 and 2011. Anyone willing to work their ways through the fourteen new vineyard-specific offerings from Williams Selyem or the many releases from Arista, DuMol, Loring, Merry Edwards, Siduri or Talley, to name but a few, is certain to see what I mean. I cannot imagine someone leaving the tasting table still believing that each producer’s wines all taste the same or questioning the worth of their separate bottling.

In all honesty I cannot say that I find such work all that fatiguing and hope that my opening complaint will be seen for the sarcasm it is. Sometimes the differences between one vintner’s wines are glaring and impossible to miss, and sometime they are quite small, but it seems to me that real connoisseurship is as much concerned with precisely those small differences as with the more obvious ones. For dyed-in-the-wool wine geeks like us, they are what make the world go around.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
How To Tell The Difference Between The Flu and A Hangover—And Other Important Matters

Fri, 11 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I don’t know if we should be proud of this fact, but I have found a place where alcohol level is not a determining factor in wine appreciation. I suppose I have been to this place before with the same results, but this time, the potential contrast could not have been more stark and the results so wonderfully tame and dictacted by how the wines smelled and tasted and not by their respective alcohol levels.

It turned out, more or less by random chance because I don’t plan these things, that a recent CGCW tasting of Pinot Noirs had a bunch of low to moderate alcohol versions and one way out there in 15.6% ABV land. Four of the eight wines in the flight had ABVs under 14% and three more were just over 14%. Surely, the outlier would stand out like the very sorest of thumbs. That is certainly the message we have been hearing for a decade and more now—so much so that it has become a source of amusement to us when so many lower alcohol wines turn out to be thin and underfilled.

Yet, in this tasting, in which all the wines were from cool to cold growing sites, the single most pleasing among them was the wine with 13.5%. That, in itself was not so surprising given the preponderance of wines with mannerly ripeness. But, here is the kicker. The second placing wine was the outlier, the full-bodied wine with 15.6% ABV.

Admittedly, there was a distinct organoleptic difference. Ripeness is, after all, ripeness, and despite the wine’s having more or less identical acid and pH measurements, the high alcohol wine was easily the more concentrated and direct of the two. So, in one sense, alcohol level did matter because it changed the character of the wine. But, when it came to the preferences of a panel of experienced wine professionals, it was not alcohol level but the rewards to be had from each wine that called the tune.

It might be a small thing, and but one anecdote in a sea full of experiences, but it happily reinforced the notion that wines are to be judged by the character, not by their labels.

It may have been a facetious question, but it is one that we found interesting: How do you tell the difference between the flu and a hangover.

Thank about it. With both, you feel like you have been run over by a steamroller. With both, your eyes hurt, you stomach has left town, even your hair hurts. With both, you promise that if tomorrow will just hurry up and come early, you will change your evil ways.

Yes, it is often hard to tell the difference between the flu and a hangover. And even now, having had a few days to think about a better answer than we gave that hall full of drinkers, we have not come up with a better answer.

You know it is a hangover if your teeth are red and the parade of empty bottles starts on the dining room table and reaches the recycling bucket out the back door.

See, that was easy. Send me my consulting nickel just as soon as you feel better.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Millennials—They Want “Tastes Good” Just Like Us

Mon, 07 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I live with two Millennials, or at least that is what I am told that they are. I have gotten to know them well. In my eyes, they are exceptional. I suppose, however, that most would regard them as fairly representative of the new species that is poised to inherit the earth, those to whom the folks in marketing and advertising these days seem to cede all legitimacy and worth.

I read again and again that those between 21 and 34 years of age are different in so many substantive ways, and that they are the new arbiters of quality. They think about wine in different ways, and they are redefining how business is done. They dismiss aging critics and see through the jimcrackery of their parents’ world, and they crave “hyperfresh” insights from journalists their own age. They are also the targets of innumerable marketing studies that aim to discover how best to pick their pockets.

Now, maybe the two that share my home, and their friends that come by to visit, are profoundly removed from the norm, but aside from the facts that they spend more time with their laptops and i-phones than I do and that they are aghast that I do not respond to e-mails and texts within seconds, I cannot otherwise say that we inhabit two separate worlds.

They value expertise and are quick to question. They want to know the “why” and “how” of things, and they have the means to find out. They will devote time and study to those things that they value. They are not all that accepting of efforts to pigeon-hole them as thinking one way or another and are quick to take offense at those who try.

Now it just so happens that 51% of these so-called Millennials drink wine at least once a week, or so some studies report. I find that good news. It may be true that much of the stuff that they now pour may be fizzy Moscatos or sweeter red wines, but taste is a matter of practice, and practice, they say, makes perfect. Those who come to embrace wine as something more than a means to a quick buzz or as easy grease to the wheels of social discourse are bound to discern “the unique” from “the crafted from the ocean of sanitary and wholly soulless plonk”.

My millennials and I were equally amused by a recent article in the New York Times Media and Advertising section that would have us believe that innovative and “convenient” packaging is the somehow the key to gaining their attention, that because this generation has grown up “drinking from plastic” they are certain to be drawn to “sleek, eco-friendly containers” when making their choices from an ever-expanding roster of new wines. The time has come, the article said, for vintners to target millenials and “think outside the bottle”.

Each generation always leaves its mark, makes its own contribution, but in the end the more things change the more they stay the same. Expertise and experience and real knowledge are still the name of the game when it comes to serious wine appreciation….and what is in the bottle will always be more important than the bottle itself.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Why I Love The Idea Of Natural Wines

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

It might be an exaggeration to call myself a “naturalist”. Oh sure, I like acoustic guitar and real blonds. I like organic lettuce and wood fires on a cold winter’s night. On the whole, I guess I prefer less manipulation than more, but that bit of fifty-cent philosophy ends when it comes to the real nitty gritty.

I fell for more bottle blonds in my green days than I care to recall, and I have never been offended by complex recipes that call for all kinds of intervention—natural or not—if the final product tastes good. Put me down as a fan of fois gras.

You see, in the final analysis, I may like to think that I am some kind of naturalist, but just as with blonds, I care more for the final product than for how it got that way so long as the process did not hurt someone along the way and won’t hurt me when I partake.

And that is how I feel about “natural wines”. Never mind that the term is more generality than reality. The concept that minimal intervention a priori makes better wine seems like a truism at first glance. But, I am not in the first glance business. I am in the winetasting business, and first glances don’t count much with me.

Depth, beauty, balance, complexity, length, adherence to notions of varietal character and terroir are far more important to me than knowing whether a wine was made with wild or cultured yeast; are far more important to me than knowing whether a wine was filtered or was bottled unfiltered; are far more important to me than caring about parts per million of sulfur dioxide or whether the cork was natural or is the product of some industrial product. When it comes to bottle closures, all I care about is whether they work for the type of wine being offered.

Wine is not about the “how” despite the claims of the naturalists, the biodynamicsts, the minimal interventionalists, the “too oaky, too rich” crowd who refuse to even taste wines that they think will offend their philosophical biases. Wine is about all the other stuff up there in the preceding paragraph, and ultimately about how much pleasure it can deliver. I got hooked on wine collecting not because it was healthy or better for the planet but because I liked the way it enhanced my life. In short, I liked the taste of good wine with the foods I was eating.

Natural wine, if there really is such a thing, or even just wines made with less intervention by man (because no wine is made without any intervention) may be absolutely wonderful stuff. But if it is, it is because it tastes good, not because someone used wild yeast or less sulfur.

I have no axe to grind with any wine. They are all equal before my palate. And as we head into the New Year, I look forward to tasting my way through yet another ocean of the good, the bad and the ugly. They will separate themselves just as they have always done, not by process, but by taste.

And my New Year’s wish for you is that you treat wine the same way. If you do, you will find the great wines for your palate and have a year filled with tasty bottles. Happy New Year.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
The Gifts That Keep On Giving

Mon, 24 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Tis the Night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature is stirring, except for my mouse.
The stockings are hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that more fodder for blog soon would be there.

The bloggers are nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Parker-gaffes dance in their heads;
And Sam Dugan in her kerchief and Wark in his cap
Have just settled down for a long winter’s nap.

When over in my office, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
When what to my bleary eyes should appear by the oodles,
Than a new slew of emails being driven by Poodles

With a little old driver, he could be our Pastor,
I knew in a flash, it must be Hosemaster
More biting than acid, his barbs how they came
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.

Now, Berger! Now, Bonne’! now, Alice and Asimov
On, Alder The Yarrow! on, Dunne and Steve Heimoff
Covered in corks, from his head to his toes,
His visage, like Rudolph’s, was led by red nose.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Jay Miller from Bobby, Nat MacLean, now there’s a jerk,
And laying his finger on WineDoody and Tim Fish,
He bound up the chimney and left with this wish

He rousted the Poodles, to them he did whistle
And flew away all, like the down from Doc Vino’s thistle
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL, A GOOD NIGHT!

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
We Reveal Our “Best Wines of The Year”
--A Strictly Hedonistic Listing

Fri, 21 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot and Charles Olken

The retrospective culling of the year’s high and low points seems almost obligatory on the part of journalists this time of year. The same with speculative prediction. They are very much a part of the holiday season for those who report on everything from movies and politics to restaurants and wine, and they seem somehow appropriate as the remaining days of one year grow short and a new year draws nigh. They most assuredly are inescapable, and we are in no way immune or exempt.

Now, outside of trying to find consensus among winemakers about what a new vintage might mean, we do not spend a great deal of time in predicting what lies around the next corner or over the next hill. While we enjoy tasting wines from barrel, we regard them as no more than incomplete works in progress and will not review them. We are and have always been concerned with what is in the bottle and on the shelf now. That is after all, the point of a consumer guide.

We do, however, like to engage in lengthy looks back at the ways California wines have come, and, yes, we annually compile a short roster of favorites and will typically name a winery and wine of the year. We do not sit down and sift through our notes for the several thousand wines we have tasted during the course of the year and make our selections based simply on the number of “points” that they may have been awarded. There are simply just too many good wines, yet, for each of us, certain wines just seem to stand out in our memories having left an indelible and unquantifiable mark, and our rosters of the year’s best are never exactly the same. We nonetheless found ourselves in easy agreement as to the most memorable bottling of the last twelve months.

The complex, wonderfully vital and wholly involving 2010 Stolpmann “La Croce”, a 50/50 blend of Sangiovese and Syrah gets the nod this year and was as unexpected as it was downright delicious. Frankly we were unaware of its existence until making its acquaintance during a week-long visit to Santa Barbara County last summer. While we were very much taken with the wine during an enlightening day spent with Peter Stolpmann, winemaker Sashi Moorman and vineyard manager, Ruben Solorzano, we never review wines tasted at wineries and rate them solely their performance in blind, peer-to-peer tastings conducted at our home base here in Alameda. Not once, but twice, “La Croce” performed brilliantly here at home, and, in all truth, we found ourselves talking about it months after the fact.

Of the thousands of wines we review each year, only a handful (less than two percent) earn our three-star award (95 points and up in our very tight scale of ratings). In choosing the best of those very successful wines, there are many exceptional wines left out, but there are always some, like La Croce, that simply leave an indelible marker of great joy in our tasting memories. Here then, our Best of The Best. Enjoy.

And Merry Christmas.

STEPHEN ELIOT'S Best of the Wines
BEEKEEPER Zinfandel Madrone Spring Vineyard 2009
FREESTONE Chardonnay Pastorale Vineyard 2009
J. SCHRAM Sparkling Wine 2005
KOSTA BROWNE Pinot Noir Gap's Crown Vineyard 2010
MERRY EDWARDS Pinot Noir Meredith Estate 2009
OJAI VINEYARD Syrah Presidio Vineyard 2006
RAVENSWOOD Zinfandel Old Hill 2009
STOLPMAN Syrah/Sangiovese "La Croce" 2010
RIDGE Zinfandel Lytton Springs 2009
TREFETHEN Cabernet Sauvignon HaLo 2006

CHARLES OLKEN'S Best of the Wines
CHAPPELLET Cabernet Sauvignon Pritchard Hill 2009
DuMOL Pinot Noir estate Russian River Valley 2009
DRAGONETTE Pinot Noir Black Label (Reserve) 2010
FREESTONE Chardonnay Pastorale Vineyard 2009
J Brut Late Disgorged Russian River 2001
LAETITIA Pinot Noir La Coupelle Arroyo Grande 2008
OLSON OGDEN Syrah Unti Vineyard Dry Creek 2009
LEWIS Chardonnay Napa Valley 2010
STOLPMAN Syrah/Sangiovese "La Croce" 2010
STORYBOOK MTN Estate Reserve 2009

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
How To Make Wine Seem Unpleasant

Wed, 19 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

It is wholly unseemly when winewriters argue with each other. So, with apologies, I am about to enter into a dispute with my good friend, Dan Berger. This is not a new thing for Berger and me to disagree. We do it all the time, mostly face to face, and generally with a fair degree of good humor.

But, today, I am going to disagree directly because Dan has penned an article for his local newspaper up in Santa Rosa in which, in the name of demystifying wine jargon, he was essentially said that most wine words mean almost the opposite of what they say. In other words, when we say things about wine in a positive vein, what we are really doing is making excuses for bad things that are going on in the bottle.

Let’s agree, first of all, that there are ways in which sales pitches for wine use language that is not always accurate. Nothing new in that. Most advertising does that. But, friend Berger is not talking about commercials here. He is suggesting that wine lovers lie—and in that, I take exception.

Let’s examine some of what Mr. Berger offers as his version of the truth:

“This wine has a hint of smoke" is interpreted by Berger to mean “it's so oaky that Greenpeace has demanded the winemaker sign a reforestation pledge.”

Sorry, but that explanation is too cute by half, and what Mr. Berger is really saying is that he does not like smoky oak. Frankly, oak is used in winemaking because it has been found over the decades to enhance wine texturally and organoleptically. A hint of smoke is just that. A smell of an old ashtray or campfire is something else entirely. But wait, folks, we are just scratching the surface here:

"It's a big, bold wine." It has 16.5% alcohol and ought to carry a warning label that says "Flammable."

"It's a delicate wine." It has no flavor at all.

Let’s be clear about a couple of things here. Mr. Berger has been consistent in not liking wines of high ripeness—except when he makes an exception. We all do make exceptions because wines are to be judged by their character, not prejudged by what we think their character is. “Big and bold” are used here to suggest that any wine with those characteristics is inherently flawed. What utter nonsense. “Delicate” is now reinterpreted to be universally bad as well. I find many Rieslings to be delicate. I do not find the ones I like to be lacking in flavor.

There are many other examples in his recent article, http://www.pressdemocrat.com/article/20121212/LIFESTYLE/212121010, and certainly, you should go look for yourself if you think I am exaggerating.

But this is my column, and I object to categorizing useful descriptors as “euphemisms/lies”. We all use descriptors in our writing, and Mr. Berger is no exception. If the rest of the world is lying to you, then you no longer can trust anyone who uses jargon—including Mr. Berger.

The problem here is simple. Wine descriptions must use analogies at times to make the point. If Berger thinks that most analogies are “lies”, then he is basically saying that most wine descriptions are not to be trusted. That is a “bridge too far” for me. The words of responsible reviewers, the words of your friends are not lies. They are honest interpretations. You can agree or disagree based on your own perceptions and your own preferences, but what you should not do is believe Mr. Berger when he essentially says that most descriptors are untrustworthy simply because they exist.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Putting The Sparkle Into Your Holidays—From The Best At Any Price to The Outright Bargains

Mon, 17 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

We do not require much urging to pop the cork on a bottle of good sparkling wine. It seems to us to be the right thing to do on special occasions, and when it is not a special occasion, when we are happy and when we are just thirsty—and, of course, a glass of fine bubbly can make ordinary days special. We like Blanc de Blancs with oysters, a deeply flavored Rosé with roasted duck or pork loin, and admit to liking most everything in between. If truth be told, we will readily fill a glass on its own with no food in sight and without any need for a toast.

Given that we will cave at the flimsiest provocation at most any time of the year, it goes without saying that the CGCW holiday season is replete with plenty of fizz, and, when it comes to deciding which ones will be served, well, we are making our lists and checking them twice.

The great and true Champagnes of Epernay, Reims and Ay are always welcome at our table, but so too are the best of our local versions, and, as our recent reviews of the latest California offerings confirm once again, there are many noteworthy wines to be had hereabouts from Napa, Sonoma, Mendocino and points south. Moreover, there are a number of terrific values to be had.

Here, then, are just a few of our West Coast favorites ranging from high-achievers that we would chose for the times when price is no object to those that are well-made and tasty but will not break the budget.

When only the best will do

97 J WINE COMPANY Brut Late Disgorged Russian River Valley 2001 $90.00
Perhaps we have been at this business of tasting wine too long, but it is the rare wine that stops us in our tracks and simply has us smiling at the joy of tasting it. This is such an effort, for while it may not have the boldness and unrivalled depth of the J. Schram below, it comes equipped with an incredible sense of elegance supported by complexity, delicacy and sheer beauty. Its aromas speak to the classic biscuitty, wheat toast, chalk and vanilla notes of the best bubblies, and yet they speak in the quiet, confident ways of sophistication. The wine enters the palate with a burst of tiny, pinpoint bubbles that shows no signs of diminution, and it continues to the back with notes of soy, toast, vanilla and still vital Meyer lemon influences. To say that we have fallen in love here would not be an exaggeration.

97 J. SCHRAM (SCHRAMSBERG) North Coast 2005 $115.00
Schramsberg's very special J. Schram bottlings inevitably make their ways to the head of the class every year, and this newest effort is nothing less than an absolute tour de force. Like the very greatest of the world's sparkling wines it exhibits an uncanny combination of layered richness and lightness with remarkably deep, very long-lasting, fully champenized flavors and an unending mousse of miniscule bubbles. It is the kind of wine that encourages the shameless use of superlatives in its description, and, yet even when found, those words are never enough.

Serious and still affordable

93 SCHRAMSBERG Blanc de Noirs Brut North Coast 2008 $41.00
Fruit takes a back seat to minerals and yeast here, yet the wine is not cast in an especially toasty style and is closer in manner to an elegant, finely etched Blanc de Blancs than to a fuller Blanc de Noirs. Although a touch on the restrained side and a bit lean on the palate, it is a nonetheless a complete and wonderfully well-crafted wine with a very fine, creamy mousse, a cleansing bias to crispness and a rich and refined finish that seems to go on forever.

93 FRANK FAMILY Blanc de Blancs Napa Valley 2008 $45.00
Far and away the finest sparkling wine that we have yet tasted under this label, this effort from the Frank Family is absolutely on point for the style and combines refinement and richness as only good Blanc de Blancs can. It is complex and nicely layered with suggestions of minerals, chalk and lemon zest in league with a full complement of yeast, and, if not at all light on substance, it maintains a light step from its frothy, finely bubbled beginnings to its crisp, very long finish.

92 ROEDERER ESTATE Brut Rosé Anderson Valley $28.00
Year in and year out, Roederer Estate's Rosé ranks with the best of its class, and this latest offering gets very high marks for its fine champenization and buoyant fruit. It is quite firm in balance with plentiful, pinpointy bubbles, and its seamless mix of bright berries and creamy yeast goes on and on at the finish. It steers away from the slight astringency that marks some of its cousins, and, while it will shine with foods ranging from duck to salmon, it is downright delicious on its own. And this wine is one of the absolute bargains in sparkling wine anywhere on the planet.

90 ROEDERER ESTATE Brut Anderson Valley $23.00
Dollar for dollar, Roederer Estate Brut also ranks among California's best sparkling wines, and, if not an extravagant wine or one that competes with those that have had years and years en tirage, this one is a composed, keenly balanced and entirely classy effort. Its subtle yeasty complexities and its fine, wonderfully persistent mousse are uncommon at the price, and, while a complete and thoroughly enjoyable wine at the moment, it is one that should last and last in the cellar.

Easiest on the pocketbook and slurpy on the palate

87 KORBEL Blanc de Noirs California $13.00
Fresh, fruity and very modestly yeasty and charged by a fine and lively stream of small bubbles, Korbel's Blanc de Noirs is a crisp, well-balanced effort that steers clear of the candied simplicity that is common in inexpensive sparklers. It is not a challenging wine, but it is an eminently drinkable one, and it earns a very enthusiastic thumbs-up vote for value.

86 KORBEL Brut Rosé California $13.00
A brief bit of yeast comes and goes here, but the wine's main message of juicy young fruit stays the course from first sniff to finish, and, although never remotely complex, the wine is clean, softly bubbled and trimmed with slight sweetness in a friendly style that invites light-hearted quaffing on warm afternoons.

85 DOMAINE STE. MICHELLE Blanc de Blancs Columbia Valley $11.00
Autolyzed yeast is a distant and muted piece here, but the wine gets good marks for both its freshness and its balance, and its gentle but very insistent mousse is easy to like. It is an affable sparkler even if complexity and richness may be a bit out of its grasp, and it comes at an attractive price. It is often seen discounted for less than $10.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Things That The Parker Sale Will Not Mean

Fri, 14 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

It seems that every wine writer, whether worth his or her salt or not, has been able to tell us what the sale of The Wine Advocate will mean. Please believe me when I tell you that they are all wrong.

I have been listening to Eric Asimov (New York Times) and Blake Gray* and The Hosemaster of Wine** and Tom Wark*** and learning a lot and learning absolutely nothing at the same time.

I mention these esteemed gentlemen because they are esteemed and deserve to be. These are not fly-by-nighters who have been around the block. These esteemed gentlemen know whereof they speak—most of the time. But not this time. I could take a couple of yards worth of text to tell you how they contradict each other, make wild claims and estimations, but I leave it to you to go to their comments and see for yourself. For my part, I want to tell you what the Parker sale will not mean.

--It will not mean the end of critical winewriting. Those who never liked Parker or who do not like ratings and tasting notes are dancing in delight at what they view as the end of an era in which the tasting note rang supreme as influencer in wine buying decisions. Believe me, please, when I tell you that there will always be tasting notes and that those tasting notes are more often than not going to come with some kind of rating. This is not some random guess. A recent survey of wine buyers said that 85% of them found value in scored tasting notes.

--It will not mean that Robert Parker has sold out to the devil. OK, maybe it does, but nobody knows because there is no evidence to suggest that the Singaporean investors intend to prostitute the Wine Advocate in any way. Maybe they will. Maybe they will raise scores, but it is hard to see how many more 100 point wines they can find in Bordeaux than Mr. Parker did last year. Maybe they will someday take advertising in the newsletter despite the fact that Parker says they won’t. Who cares if they do? The Wine Spectator takes advertising and the last time I looked, it had 500,000 paid readers. Maybe some winewriters and geeks will care, but the wine buying public has already said that it does not.

--It will not mean the end of the print edition of the newsletter. It should, of course, because the only reason to be in print anymore is to sell advertising. No advertising, no need to be in print. But, the Wine Advocate runs up to one hundred pages per issue. That alone is a reason why it cannot abandon print. It is one thing for Steve Tanzer and Dan Berger and Connoisseurs’ Guide and most financial newsletters to stop their print editions. Their rags do not run hundreds of pages. Very few are going to download an issue of a hundred pages and print it out for themselves. There may be ways for the WA to drop print, but it will first have to change itself. If it ever happens, it seems unlikely to be soon.

--It does not mean that wines are going to get riper (as one writer predicted) nor does it mean that wines are now going to get lighter (as others who do not like the Parker palate have predicted). The kinds of wines recommended will, as they have always been, be the product of the palate and tastes of the reviewer. If you change the reviewer, you will get different preferences, but no one knows if or when the existing stable of writers at the Wine Advocate will change. Stories that they are all being readied for the chop are just that. Stories.

--It does not mean that wine prices are going to go up just because the new Wine Advocate will begin to seek an audience in Asia. It is not irrational to think that supply and demand determines wine prices and that a wider audience in an emerging wine-enthusiastic part of the world will not increase demand. But, while some wines are now absolutely delimited by their own regulations, it is also true that we have seen boundaries and even rules change to accommodate bigger demand. The near panic prediction that some California wines could reach $1000 is at least partially farfetched in that most of us really do not care what Screaming Eagle sells for.

Bottom line: What has happened here is that an entrepreneur has built a business over thirty-five years of hard work and has, in his mid-sixties, sold to younger interests whose vision may lead that business into expansion. The prediction frenzy that has been set off by this event far exceeds its importance operationally. We all need to stay tuned for weeks and months ahead. This story will yet have more twists and turns than General Hospital before it is over.

* http://blog.wblakegray.com/
** http://www.hosemasterofwine.blogspot.com/
*** http://fermentationwineblog.com/

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Parker Makes The Wine World Go Round—Again

Wed, 12 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

The debate over alcohol levels, whether or not the 100-point scoring system has any real validity and anything that Robert Parker Jr. may be doing are still the topics most likely to generate social-media buzz, and Mr. Parker’s recent announcement that he was selling a substantial portion of the Wine Advocate has the world of wine journalism in a state of sheer pixilation.

Most everyone who writes about wine professionally and those legions of “civilians” whose voices are part of the unending on-line wine conversation have weighed in with their opinions, and we are told in no uncertain terms what the sale means. I confess to doing some head-scratching myself, but my puzzlement lies with the reactions of others rather than with the infusion of capital that will change the Wine Advocate.

We hear that the new Wine Advocate will become even more powerful and, conversely, that its influence will wane as Parker’s role must surely be marginalized. There are baffling claims that world’s wines are bound to get riper because of the sale and that prices for those most highly rated are certain to soar. One observer excitedly states that the groundwork is now laid for “one of the most important world-wide wine publishing ventures in history,” while another would have us believe that the sale is emblematic of Parker’s inevitable obsolescence and his irrelevance in North America and Europe.

In the midst of it all, I feel a bit like a disbelieving and disinterested guest at a séance. Crystal-ball gazing may be pleasant entertainment, but the business of prediction is thorny.

Of course there will be changes. A business must change along with the times or it must necessarily whither, and none lives forever. The best laid plans, however, do not always play out as expected and success sometimes comes when it seems highly unlikely. I am amused by wildly speculative leads about the changes ahead for the Wine Advocate, but I see no incontrovertible future in the tea leaves. Like everyone else, I will just have to wait and see what it all really means.

For now, the only things that are certain are that the Wine Advocate has new capital and that Parker’s bank account has accordingly grown. It means that whatever directions the Wine Advocate may or may not take will no longer be decided solely by Parker, and, in the short term at least, it also means that there is new grist aplenty for the internet mill of listen-to-me journalism.

Or as the blogosphere likes to put it, “Robert Parker is the gift that keeps on giving”.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
More Questions Than Answers In The News

Mon, 10 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I was hoping that this political cycle was over and that we could return to peace and quiet and wine drinking. No such luck, however. I was rudely shocked out of my naivete by an article that criticized balanced news coverage. It said that journalists had an obligation to speak about “truth”, not in the language of equivalency and “he said, she said” coverage.

OK, I can agree with that to a certain extent. We ought to have a press that does more than report blandly on the news of the day. And, as I was absorbing this not so difficult concept and trying to wrap my head around whether I want everything I read to sound like Fox News and MSNBC, I came across a couple of wine stories that were so bereft of analysis as to sound more like twelfth-grade journalism goes to press release school than truth. And I found myself asking, “What The Heck?” or something like that.

Let’s take the case of this “news”. Here is the opening paragraph—

“NakedWines.com, a UK-based online winery, has brought together over 100,000 Angels to provide $3m investment for Tim Olson and Jeff Stai - two independent winemakers in California.”

Now, I happen to be a fan of both these guys, and I want to know what the heck is going on here. These two serious winemakers have seemingly just agreed to make stacks of wine to be sold at knock down prices through Naked Wine. What the article in question has utterly failed to address, and thus what the world is going to demand to know, is whether these folks, who are Olson Ogden and Twisted Oak respectively, have given up their own brands. Will these new wines substitute for theirs? Are their brands being cut back or even abandoned? Not one word about these questions in what purports to be a news report rather than a press release.

I care about those answers; we all do. What’s going on here? These are wine questions, and not political, but they do beg the issue: What The Heck?

The other story that absolutely left me floundering for answers came out of Massachusetts where a piece of legislation that would have opened up the State for wineshipping was abandoned by its author. Not one word of probing analysis as to why this overdo action in Massachusetts has once again been driven off the rails.

This too is a wine questions and, like the Naked Wine issue, will get explained at some point. It is too bad that the reporting left us hanging even for a little bit. The Massachusetts problem will get resolved in the right way sooner or later. The world is opening up for wine consumers in a movement whose success is inevitable because the consumers want it so. On the other hand, in the short term, I want to know what is to become of Jeff Stai and Tim Olson and their labels. Hopefully, what has happened is a just a side deal, a step on the road to cash flow. I want to know; we all do.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Experts? We Don’t Need No Stinking Experts

Fri, 07 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

...nor do we any longer need to be burdened with oh-so-messy human interaction when it comes to picking the right wine for any occasion. Sommeliers? Degree-toting specialists? Knowledgeable retailers? Who needs them. Just download the newly updated Hello Vino app (hellovino.com) on your smart phone and freedom is yours. Hey, it’s free; how bad can it be? Stay tuned.

OK, I will freely admit that I generally ignore the latest computer and smart-phone applications that have to do with wine and I am far from conversant with their latest incarnations. That they are inherently simplistic and provide the “right” answers with absolute digital authority is bothersome enough, but I have found very few that exhibited the least bit of real expertise, and I have always wondered just who came up with the answers and why. My unease with them is less that they contribute to the populist dumbing down of wine and more that they are dangerous detours on the path to real education and lead to too many dead ends.

I am well aware that not everyone wants to spend time in learning about wine, but I believe good, well-reasoned advice can open exciting new doors and leave folks wanting a bit more. Admittedly, I spent too many years in a classroom to believe that everyone really wants to learn, but that never stopped me from assuming they did, and I recall the enormous satisfaction of watching the brightening eyes of those whose lights began as a bare flicker.

Still, when prodded to investigation by a press release for the newly updated Hello Vino, I found my dismay a bit hard to contain.

With astonishingly detailed, many-layered menus that aid in selecting wines by any number of criteria ranging from what goes with various foods from sushi to salads to candy bars (with or without nuts and then further broken down into specific categories such as Baby Ruth, Mr. Goodbar and Snickers!) to what is appropriate for occasions ranging from “big sporting events” to “a wine to impress someone”, this little app leaves no base untouched. And, not only does it provide answers such as Cabernet Sauvignon with a cheese pizza, an oaky, full-bodied Chardonnay with green salads, and several Zinfandels that pair perfectly with Guacamole, it goes further to make very specific recommendations as to individual labels, the descriptions of which are apparently provided by the selected wineries themselves.

No, I am not making this up.

And whether I agree or disagree with those or any of HelloVino recommendations is beside the point. I do wonder, however, by whom and what process are these choices made.

The good news and bad, I suppose, is that the app costs nothing to download. There is clearly enormous work in its creation, but, in the end, nothing is really free. I am too much of a skeptic to believe that this is an endeavor driven by singular altruism. I find myself asking questions as to who benefits most. And, as is almost always true, in the end, you get what you pay for.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Why We Overrate Acidity In Wines

Wed, 05 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

It is a commonly held belief that acidity is the most important balancing component in wine. While there are differences of opinion about what constitutes sufficient balancing acidity, one would be hard-pressed to find a wine commentator anywhere who would argue that low acidity is a good thing. I am not about to offer a different view on that subject—and yet, I am going to argue that we have come now to rely too much on acidity as a measure of virtue in wines.

Two very specific examples have put the wind up my nose on the merits of high acidity and the lack of acceptability of low acidity. The first is the argument that wines from certain areas, with cold climates and naturally high acidities in the resulting wines, are simply to be preferred to other areas with lower natural acidities. Steve Eliot and I heard this argument many times on our visit last summer to Santa Barbara County. It became a predictable mantra, and while there may have been disagreements among the vintners there about alcohol levels, there was almost no debate, especially for those in the cooler western regions of the County, about the absolute virtues of their more or less universally high acidity.

The problems with that argument are found in the wines of other areas. While it is okay to like your wines the way they turn out, it seems to me that dissing places like the Russian River Valley as inferior because the wines from that place are often lower in acidity ignores a few facts—namely that those latter wines, while not universally bitingly crisp, are still wonderfully in balance, tasty and exciting. Of course, the argument also ignores the existence of plenty of briskly balanced wines as well.

But here is the second problem, or set of problems, if you will. Since when did crackling acidity become a measure of balance? Is not balance a tasting term, not a chemical measurement? And is it not possible for wines to be deliciously in balance even with less than dramatic acidity?

These are not new arguments. We here at CGCW have been making them for years. We have spoken out for balance in Zinfandel when it began to get so late-harvest that ripeness and not fruit too often became its calling card. We have argued that what was missing in California sparkling wine a couple of decades ago was the crisp austerity that gives that product its unique character—and which now, thankfully, is seen almost across the board in mid- to high-priced local versions.

But new argument or not, the search to define balance keeps marching on, and the other day, whether the winery meant it or not, the new Chardonnays from Miner (2009 Wild Yeast and 2010 Napa Valley) have added new fuel to the fire. On the surface, and looking only at chemical statistics, these wines with acidity levels around 0.50%, would seemingly be soft, out of balance and heavy with no vitality in sight. These are not newly minted vintages, after all, with fermenter freshness to carry them. These are wines that have a certain bit of maturity.

So what happened when we tasted them blind—aside from the fact that they finished ahead of several other very good wines in our tasting? It turned out that not one taster called that fat or flabby or tiring to drink or heavy or used any other descriptor to suggest that they were out of balance hedonistically. For sure, no one also described them as brisk, crackling or racy. When we got to the end of our discussions of the wines and opened up their covers, we were very surprised to see their stated acidities. Even for us, the expectation had grown that balanced Chardonnays would necessary be delimited to acidities reaching past 0.60% and closer to 0.70%. These Miner wines were far lower and yet they were in balance to a panel of professionals who have generally tended to like wines with acidity.

There is a bottom line here. It is that acidity by itself is a measure of nothing but acidity. Balance cannot be determined by a set of numbers, does not a priori come only with elevated acidity and is an organoleptic phenomenon, not a laboratory phenomenon. And perhaps we can now come to a new maturity in our discussion of balance in Chardonnay. We can do this by tasting the wines, not reading the labels. This is not new news either, but it has just been reiterated for us by the wines themselves.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
I Used To Drink Like A Millionaire

Mon, 03 Dec 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I am not bitter about the fact that I can no longer afford to drink the wines that I once did. I suppose in some ways that I bear some responsibility for the fact. Those of us who in the early 1970s became active players in the business of wine, from its making to its selling to the world of journalism around it, were successful in creating a new appreciation for fine wine and waking up millions to the joys of our favorite drink. Perhaps, we were a little too good.

Great wine has always been the domain of privilege and wealth. That much has not changed. But I do sometimes wonder, why is it is that in the leaner days some decades back, I could occasionally splurge on a bottle or two of first growth Bordeaux or a couple of Grand Cru Burgundies, even those from Domaine de la Romanee Conti, and now, in my comparatively comfortable middle age, those wines are woefully out of reach. I recall a conversation with the late Madeline Kamman many years back wherein she lamented the fact that she could no longer afford to drink the wines with which she grew up. It was a wistful comment more than a jealous broadside aimed that those who could, and I feel much the same way today. No more than supply and demand, I guess, and the world has become both a bigger and smaller place.

Lafite, Latour, Mouton and Petrus have become trophies for the very few, and, over the last several months, we have heard that great Burgundies are about to become the same. There are a handful of bottlings from California that are pursued by those with more money than brains as I was recently reminded by a noted sommelier. He told a tale of dealing with a wealthy Chinese businessman who, after a quick calculation of the cost, delighted that he could afford to buy the entire production of Screaming Eagle Cabernet for himself and tried without success to recruit said sommelier as his agent to do just that.

Much is written these days about the culture of wine and how wine itself is a reflection of culture. What seems clear is that there is no “one” wine culture and that the cultures that wine has come to reflect and influence are many. Wine is some quarters the measure of status and in others the engine of friendship and good will. It can speak to place and history both local and global, and it can afford relief from the daily trespasses of a too-busy world. It is art, and it is beverage. It is impossibly profound and mindlessly simple, and it can in special times leave an indelible mark on memory. It can change the way in which we perceive the world around us.

The good news, and that which mitigates any jealousy in my musings, is that there is so very much more good wine to be had than at any time in the past. There is plenty of wonderful stuff to go around. There are new discoveries to be made every day, and the search for and finding something truly special is as keenly exciting as ever. Not all wine needs to be great, and, it turns out, not all great wine is prohibitively expensive.

It may be true that I rarely indulge in those whose legends whose prices have outgrown the realities of my universe, but, when all is said and done, I do not feel like I am settling for less. I am convinced that I drink better today than I ever did. It is, I think, a good time to be a wine drinker.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Bashing The Sommelier

Fri, 30 Nov 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

There was a time when the “funniest” person in fancy restaurants was the snooty waiter who looked down his nose at you when you asked questions like “what is “Ris de Veau?”, and when he answered sweetbread, you asked “why is it not on the dessert menu”?

Well, those days are mostly gone. Now most waiters are younger than Taylor Swift and smile twice as much. The waiters union has decreed that snoot is out and being a pal is in. Frankly, I don’t know which is worse, because, in neither style did waiters actually make you think that they knew anything—just that they once thought you supercilious and now find that they like you and that you will tip better if you want to adopt them.

No, the snoot these days is no longer the province of the waiter in his penguin suit. It now belongs to a new genus, Sommelier Youngus, whose talents are immediately evident when he makes you think that you cannot possibly drink wine in his restaurant without accepting that only he knows the keys to kingdom.

I have been offended by this new kind of being, this new mutation of personhood for years now. I have openly said that I will not go to restaurants whose menu selections require you to pass the first two rounds of the Master of Wine course in order to recognize the obscure selections on the list. I have refused to go back to the San Francisco restaurant whose sommelier told me that she had zero California sparkling wines on her list because “they are all too sweet and low in acidity”. Maybe she is just too young to know better, or maybe she has been reading the new rules for sommeliers.

I never knew that such rules existed until Ron Washam, himself a reformed sommelier, told the world about them in his blog (Hosemaster of Wine, http://www.hosemasterofwine.blogspot.com/ ). There, in an article entitled, “The Secret Official Sommelier Manual—Leaked”, Mr. Washam reveals, for the first time, why it is that the world has come to hate sommeliers that way it used to hate snooty waiters.

Take for instance, the section of the Sommelier Manual entitled, “Attitude”. I guess I should have figured this out on my own, but now I (and the rest of the world) know why we are second-class citizens when staring at some of those “Look at me. I am the Sommelier” excuses for wine lists exist. This is the advice that the new snoot tells sommeliers to follow.

You’re a god. No, you’re God. You’re Karl Rove with a tastevin. You’re Rush Limbaugh with breast reductions. You’re Paul Ryan with a boner. You’re Barbra Streisand with replacement rhinoceros hormones. You’re Larry Mathers as The Beaver. You’re Michel Chapoutier with lifts. You’re God with a Robert Parker complex.

OK, I get it now. And there is more, a lot more revealed in this seminal look into the reason why people have stopped drinking wine in restaurants. It used to be the food that intimidated us. Then we all became foodies. Now it is the wine list and the attitude behind it that is making wine service so much of a bother.

I highly recommend this editorial by the Hosemaster. He knows whereof he speaks. And before you dismiss his commentary as pure comedy, just because he makes fun of Rush, let me tell you that there is more truth in that article than in most blogs. His words may pass for comedy at first glance, but like all good topical humor, they are based on truth and reveal more about this new cult of the sommelier than most straight articles would ever dare to do.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Confessions of A Wine Writer

Wed, 28 Nov 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Serendipity did not lead me to the writer’s profession, and I did not choose it out of local convenience. I have spent the better part of my adult life reporting on California wines because I happen to like them. That much is true, but I also like those from France and Germany and Italy and Spain and Australia and, well, you get the idea. I have never felt the need to champion wines of one place over the other. Thinking in terms of an Old World/New World dichotomy has always struck me as needlessly limiting, and those tiresome voices that cannot praise the virtues of one without damning the other are voices best ignored.

Oh, I have my favorites, all of us do, but I cannot abide arguments that this or that place has a monopoly on quality. I try not to be too much of a home-team cheerleader, and I work to maintain a balanced perspective, but I will admit that there are times when my enthusiasm is a little hard to contain. I was pretty charged up about the wines and winemakers of the Santa Maria and Santa Ynez Valleys and the Santa Rita Hills after Charlie and I tasted our ways through scores of delicious new bottlings on an extended visit last summer, and my long-term love affair with Napa Valley Cabernet seems to have found further passion over the last couple of months.

The source of that passion and of this morning’s musings is our soon-to-be published year-ending issue. As always, Cabernet Sauvignon is the December star, and that star seems to be shining especially bright this year.

There is no question now but that the 2009 vintage was a very good one as far as Napa Valley Cabernet goes. That much was clear as the wines from leading producers began coming to market earlier this year. But, as good as the better bottlings clearly may be, I am equally impressed at just how many outstanding wines there are. Some, like those from Ackerman, Amici, Kadiem, Dancing Hares, Prim Family and Promise are new to our table. Old favorites and proven performers like Diamond Creek, Corison, Chapellet and Joseph Phelps show why they are icons, and others, like Sequoia Grove, have lifted their games to new levels. There is, quite simply, a lot of very, very good stuff out there.

I feel sorry for those who have tired of Napa Valley Cabernet, and sorrier still for those who hold such silly notions that all of the wines are swollen, overripe caricatures of their once-great former selves. There are reasons why Napa Valley Cabernet has come to be California’s defining wine, and they are very much manifest still.

I do not eat the same meal every night, nor do I drink the same wine every day. I like my Pinot Noirs and Syrahs, my Zinfandels, Sauvignon Blancs and, yes, Chardonnays. I take great delight in discovering new and interesting bottlings of those varietals that are outside of the local mainstream. Still, at the end of the day, it is hard ignore the Napa Valley Cabernet’s place at the very head of the home-grown class. It has earned it.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
The Next Big Controversy Is Right Around The Corner

Mon, 26 Nov 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

The election is over. Baseball is over. The harvest is finished. Hockey never began. What in the world will we talk about while waiting for fermentations to finish and the “big promise” of a perfect new vintage to begin? Now, mind you, I don’t care much about qualitative projections about the unfinished new wines. Pronouncements of grandeur at this time of year have been de riguer for as long as I have been involved with wine, and I suspect that such confident expressions of greatness about to unleashed have existed for many years prior to that.

But while we wait for the new wines and the next controversy, I have come up with a few candidates on my own—and I am limiting myself to the topic of global warming and its impact on wine production and quality. I am not predicting that they will necessary be the hottest topics of hot debate, but I am guessing that we are going to be hearing comments over the next months on all sides of these varied issues and concerns.

I am admittedly a climate change guy. The heat accumulation records of the last twenty to fifty years clearly show that things are getting warmer. In wine country, the debate will not necessarily take the same path that it will for most folks—man or nature?—but how much of our recent vintages are the result of global warming and whether the cool California vintages of 2010 and 2011 were typical or atypical, whether the resulting lower alcohol wines (in some but not all cases) is proof that California can do it or just proof that cool vintages yield lower alcohol wines and nothing more.

The trends and countertrends that surround this subject do not allow for grand conclusions, but you can bet that you will hear all of the following:

--Despite global warming, coastal California will not warm up because of the way our natural air conditioning works. The warmer it gets inland, the more fog is generated offshore and finds its way inland to cool the coast and even places fifty or more miles inland.

--Or, the coast will warmup as well, and while the fog will always be with us, it will not push inland as far as it used to because it has to fight with the added warmth along the coast. The result is that Napa will become Chateauneuf du Pape and the Willamette Valley will become Napa.

--Champagne is already on the road to ruin with riper vintages changing the way the wines from that hallowed ground present themselves.

--Or, don’t worry about Champagne, it is still plenty cool there and the changes in the wines have more to do with stylistic desires than with global warming.

--Harvests in Chateauneuf du Pape are now three weeks earlier than they were just a generation or so ago. The result has been to turn these venerable wines into overripe, sloppy versions of themselves.

--Or, since when has CdP not been highly ripened wine? Is it not true that CdP has undergone substantial improvement in vineyard practice and plant material just as the rest of the world has done, and thus, CdP is earlier because it has better vines and technique?

Friends, this listing of arguing points just on global warming could go on and on. I list some of them to illustrate that we will always have things to argue about. Wine is about passion. Why would that stop now just because the election is over?

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
My Love Affair With Chenin Blanc

Mon, 19 Nov 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

It has been fifteen years since Dan Berger penned a piece for the Los Angeles Times eulogizing the passing of Chenin Blanc. Obituaries can sometimes be premature, just consider those for Merlot and Syrah. Still, if not stone-cold dead, Chenin Blanc is still barely breathing here in California, and what little hope I have for the variety is little indeed given the continuing love affair with bigger, richer whites.

I constantly wonder why Chenin Black is almost never mentioned when reading new stories about how tiny plantings of this or that esoteric grape are harbingers of the next big thing to come here in California. Perhaps it is because it was once a very big thing hereabouts and, having had its moment, is now forever passé. Maybe it fails to stir passions simply because it is not new and thus affords little chance for any would-be promoter to bask in the limelight of discovery.

It was once the daily white quaff of choice out here on the West Coast. By 1980 we had more of the stuff planted than France. Some of it was delicious and some was not, but when I hear journalistic chatter about the significant places to be played by Grenache Blanc, Marsanne, the true Gamay Noir or Ribolla Gialla in the next generation of fine California wines, I keep straining in the hope of hearing a just a few words about Chenin Blanc. They too rarely come.

Now, it just may be that the cost of doing business is a permanent weight around Chenin Blanc’s neck that will ever weigh it down. I suppose that, if given the chance, I would not plant it in prime growing areas that could otherwise produce Cabernets and Pinots and Chardonnays that could fetch much higher prices, at least not if I had to pay the bills. I cannot envision a time when Chenin Blanc, however good it might be, would be a sensible choice for someone sitting on vineyards worth hundreds of thousands of dollars an acre. Still, not every growing site, real or potential, is prohibitively expensive, nor is Chenin Blanc by its nature capable of producing nothing more than cheap wines.

I recall marvelous bottlings from Chalone and Chappellet with great fondness. I recently tasted a very serious and satisfying version from Foxen and light, fresh version from Blacksmith, and, any who might dismiss the grape as being without virtue need only taste the remarkable Loire Valley versions of Huet, Chidaine, Domaine de la Fontainerie and Champaloux. The point, quite simply, is that Chenin Blanc can be so much more than a simple warm-weather quaff, even though I will confess to good memories of Charles Krug tasty gulpers on summer days long ago.

It has been said that consumer confusion has led in large part to Chenin Blanc’s demise, much as the chameleon-like nature of Syrah and the wide variance of sweetness in Riesling are supposedly impassable blocks on their roads to popular acceptance. For me, however, Chenin Blanc’s ability to show so many faces is something that deserves celebration. It can make a bracing, bone-dry version of great depth and delicacy. It can produce fruity, flowery, light-hearted gulpers whose slight sweetness and keen acids are perfectly fit, and, in the right hands and the right places, it can yield dessert wines that stand with the world’s best.

Chenin Blanc is not past reviving, and it has its handful of champions yet. I would offer a tip of the hat to those winemakers who enjoy an uphill battle and invite those who have not yet made its acquaintance to give a few bottles a try.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Our Wine Schedule For Thanksgiving

Wed, 14 Nov 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

It’s that time of year again. Olkens from all over the country, mostly cold places with snow and, this year, some with no electricity, will be piling into our little corner of the world for the annual family Thanksgiving. There will be a lot of drinking topped off by my dinner table selections for the year. More on that later.

It has been tradition in my family for as long as I can remember, which is some six decades and counting, for as many Olkens who could make it to gather somewhere. In my youth, it was at Uncle Pete’s house. Pete was my dad’s twin brother, and these two happy and rotund gentlemen, nicknamed Tweedledum and Tweedledee in their youth, were anything but a couple of stumblebums. Both were successful businessmen, and Pete’s, having the biggest house among the five Olken brothers, was the place we all met up.

There were many traditions from the tag football game for the kids, which was our highlight, to the dinner in the back bedroom (known for the day as the kid’s room) which was less than fun as the adults laughed their ways through the day and night and we were pretty much told to stay out of the way.

Next week, there will be something like 35 of us gathered in my bungalow, and it is good thing that we reconstructed our dining room three decades ago to hold an oversized tasting table for Connoisseurs’ Guide. We crowd three tables sideways into the room and sort of shimmy in and out during dinner, and, no surprise, there is still a kid’s table. The little darlings, all eight of them range in age from six to ten and the tag football game has now turned into a soccer game that pretty much takes up the entire end of our cul-de-sac.

One thing has changed rather dramatically. My aunts and uncles were never wine drinkers. My brothers and sisters-in-law and my kids and cousins and various versions of significant others, on the other hand, seem never to have met a wine of mine that they did not like. I would be flattered by that realization if I did not know in my heart of hearts that it was not the wine that they cared about but the lubricant. My relations seem to live by the standard: if it does not give me a bellyache, it must be pretty good.

Hard to argue with that philosophy, but I don’t follow it, and so the wines, while not my prize possessions, must be of a style that goes with the meal but which varies by type each year just for the fun of it. This year, we will start with Rose’ and sparkling wine for those who do not imbibe of my special recipe Bloody Mary’s. Then it will be on to Viognier and Pinot Noir.

I happen to like those two varieties because, in California hands, they turn out rich, nicely fruity and sufficiently sophisticated to hold my interest, yet they seem also to go over well with the family. Thanksgiving meals never seem to be totally inviting of great wine. Too many different flavors ranging from earthy to sweet, and no matter how good the gravy is, it still has a hard time making white meat turkey taste like anything that demands a fine wine. But, those little problems will not stop me.

Here is the list of wines that are currently segregated in the cellar in anticipation of their starring moment.

SPARKLING WINE

89 GLORIA FERRER Brut en magnum Sonoma County $38
I like serving sparkling wine from magnum. The wines frequently turn out richer than when made in the regular-sized bottle, and this wine has done that at price that makes it one of the bargains of the season.

92 ROEDERER ESTATE Brut Rosé Anderson Valley $28.00
It will be hard to find a better pink wine for the money no matter on what continent you search. Bountiful in character and bountiful in its bubbles, this wine will be real favorite among those few of the relatives who fancy themselves as the cognenscenti.

VIOGNIER

The wines recommended below have been tasted but not yet written or rated, but since those tasting are going to be guiding my Thanksgiving selections, I can at least guarantee that they were well-received in our blind tastings and should also be welcome additions to our tables.

J VINEYARD Hoot Owl Vineyard Alexander Valley 2011 $30.00
Ripe, rich and impeccably balanced, this wine will honor the sauces and starches yet has the acidity to be refreshing from first to last.

TANGENT Paragon Vineyard Edna Valley 2011 $17.00
Young, fresh, fruity, balanced and a great mealtime mate for its length and vitality. And a genuine value.

PINOT NOIR

91 RUSSIAN HILL Russian River Valley 2009 $33.00
Rich, wonderfully fruity Pinot Noir from the Russian River area is never going to inexpensive, but this one delivers lots to like and will stand up to the savory stuffing and dark meat that feature on my plate.

87 BONTERRA Mendocino County 2010 $16.00
This wine is what will pass for a lighter red this year. “Light” is a relative term, of course, and this one is light by comparison but is no shrinking violet. It quality is very hard to match at the price.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Criticism, Expertise and the Value of Opinion

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I awoke early this morning after having spent a full day of work pouring over a couple of hundred tasting notes on the new Cabernets that will be featured in our upcoming December issue, and, as clear thought only comes after several espressos, I checked in on a random selection of wine bloggers while waiting for my intellectual fog to pass. I check the blogs regularly though I am not entirely sure why since I usually wind up feeling a bit stupid for thinking that today’s collection of deep vinous insights will be any more useful than the day’s before. What was that saying? "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results." You get the idea.

Well, this morning my quick scan of headlines came to a stop with an article that led with the question “What Entitles YOU to be a Critic!?!?” Good question, I thought, since I make my living as a critic. While it may sound a bit picky, I would argue that, as one the article’s follow-up commenters suggested, that “qualifies” is probably a much better word the “entitles”. I mean, everyone is entitled to an opinion, but one hopes and expects that a critic worth his or her salt can claim some sort of expertise by way of qualification.

Expertise, just as the word suggests, is born of experience. It is the ability, based on experience, to form and clearly express views and opinions that have genuine worth to others, and I occasionally wonder if real expertise may be threatened by the click-and-go informational populism of the day. Karen MacNeil, as I recall, said it first…”when everyone is an expert, there are no experts.”

In the end, I suppose, that which ultimately qualifies someone to be a critic is their audience. I have no illusions about what I do for a living. As a writer and reviewer for Connoisseurs’ Guide, I do not trade in right or wrong “answers”. I offer opinions, nothing more. But, professional opinion is a commodity like everything else, and its value is determined by the market. If what I write is reliable and consistently affords worth to our readers, we will survive as we have for over thirty-five years, and, if not, we will go out of business. It is just that simple.

I also suppose that I am a bit of an optimist, for I do not really believe that the internet and new social media are the engines of intellectual anarchy. They will not breed an intellectually lazy generation of unthinking dunces whose knowledge and appreciation of wine is destined to be ever more ephemeral and wildly subjective. The message will always be more important than the medium, and the voices of those who can best express message will always be heard.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
The Disservice of Overly Expensive Wine Lists

Fri, 09 Nov 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Earlier this week, the San Francisco Chronicle’s executive food and wine editor and restaurant critic, Michael Bauer, offered up his views on restaurant wine pricing policies and was met by an torrent both of support and of pointed criticism, some of the latter quite nasty, for daring to suggest that mark-ups were often too high and that the customers were not always getting good value for their money.

I must admit that I weigh in wholeheartedly with Michael on this one.

I spend a fair bit of my limited discretionary funds on dining out, but a smaller and smaller portion is allocated to wine these days. I have more regularly adopted the advice of many of Michael’s supporters by bringing a bottle from home and paying corkage, or simply settling for something inexpensive (relatively speaking) from the wine-by-the-glass offerings of the day.

Now, I love to try new wines from new places and new producers, but I have grown rather cautious at the prices such experimentation demands. A glass perhaps of the latest Balkan beauty or some biodynamic breakthrough from Eastern Europe, but, please, not a whole bottle. And, I have real problems with seeing favorites priced upwards of two-hundred dollars when they might be found for closer to fifty at retail.

I understand that there are costs associated with a good restaurant wine program, and I appreciate that expertise, an interesting inventory, good glassware and fine service are worth paying for. That is, when they are truly present. When dining out, however, I confess that, while my world is rarely a wine-centric one; my first concern is the food. Rarely, if ever, do I choose this or that restaurant solely because of its wine list, but a poorly drawn, overly expensive list will most assuredly turn me awa--as will a sommelier or wine director who will not or cannot be bothered to deal with discerning dinosaurs like me who actually enjoy the occasional Chardonnay or Merlot.

Make no mistake, the restaurant business is a tough one. There are simply too many things that need to be done right. Damn few restaurants turn out to be a success. But, as with any successful business, it is those who pay close attention to their customers and can ultimately justify price with perceived quality who will thrive. In a truly open market, there are no free passes, nor should there be.

For me, a restaurant has a single chance to impress. If the first visit is not successful, I will not be back, and trying to pick my pocket is a guaranteed way to ensure it.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Oh, The Day-After Hangover

Wed, 07 Nov 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I will be surprised if I am the only Wednesday morning blogger with a hangover. A large bottle of expensive sparkling wine followed by a large bottle of equally dear Champagne will do that to a fella.

I wish I could report that all this what brought about in celebration of the election results, but the truth of the matter is that we started drinking long before the results were final. And while I will admit that the Presidential race did go my way, there were other results of significance both here and across the country that reaffirmed my faith in human nature and encouraged yet more tippling.

The support for schools here in California is personal. My daughter is an educator, and my grandkids are in the midst of being educated. California ranks so low in support of schools that some third world countries spend more per pupil. Our Proposition 30 may not correct all the ills, but it will help.

There are other results that kept us happy and happily imbibing. No need to recount them all. It is not only my head that is sore this A. M. Sitting in front of the TV for hour after hour has contributed to soreness at the other end of the exo-skeleton.

Thankfully, today is an off-day in our four-day a week tasting regime. Steve Eliot and I did work our ways through some pretty good Chardonnays and very ripe Zinfandels earlier yesterday. We joked that tasting was as good a way of killing time until the election returns claimed the rest of the day and night as anything else we might choose. Far better than washing the windows, which is what Mrs. Olken did until the appointed time.

You won’t learn much about wine from Connoisseurs’ Guide today, but I do have at least a bit of news to share with you. Among the wines we tasted and enjoyed yesterday were a large number of Zinfandels from the Rock Wall winery. You may remember that Rock Wall is Kent Rosenblum’s new venture. His first winery, which still bears his name but not his kind ministrations, now belongs to the Diageo conglomerate. It appears that Rock Wall will repeat parts of the Rosenblum winery experience by becoming a major purveyor of Zinfandel in many sizes and shapes. Winery production, which was limited by contract for its first few years to 5,000 cases, is now slowly growing past 20,000 and, the winery now has its bottles in most of the country’s large wine markets.

I am happy to relate all this info to you because it proves that the little grey cells are still alive and kicking. But, that happy news notwithstanding, there will be no tasting today. I might even try to get through the day without a word from Wolf Blitzer.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
“Fresh”—New Paradigm or Separate Category?

Mon, 05 Nov 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

We hear it every day. There is a new and growing movement among enlightened consumers for lighter and “fresher” wines. There is a distinct and definable “new taste” taking hold that is changing the very foundations of what wine really means. Frankly, while there seems little question that there are more than a few voices to the chorus, I am as yet unconvinced that the “movement” is all that significant or that it is embraced by the imposing legions that some would have us believe.

There is no question but that the topics of low alcohol, low ripeness, no oak, high acid, etc. are regular fodder for a handful of professional writers and the internecine feuds that ceaselessly rage online, but is there really a battle between “old taste” and “new taste”, or is the conflict something created for and by wine writers and the hip and “hyperfresh” crowd whose worlds begin and end in New York and San Francisco?

That is just what was suggested in no uncertain terms by Siduri winemaker Adam Lee last week during a heated online discussion over the relevance of the Wine Spectator. He writes,

“Being a baseball fan, you know all about the East Coast bias of the media. I think the same type of thing exists when it comes to the wine media...believing that what happens in NYC or SF is representative of what is happening in the rest of the country.”

“I think that saying that there is an old set and a new set of values when it comes to wine is very much an isolated belief...held by certain wine writers on the east and west coast metropolitan areas and not representative of what the rest of the country experiences.”

Now, I often think that critics and columnists, and yes I am one, are given and at times take too much credit for creating current trends rather than indentifying and reporting them. Moreover, I think it is very hard to discern what trends are real and which are not. A good many, it seems to me, are created as grist for the journalistic mill in order to keep readers returning when there may not really be much new to say. I mean, really, if there is not something new and significant to write about, then you had better invent it or risk being left behind by those who do.

Somewhere in all of the posturing and didactic nonsense of trying to tell would-be wine lovers what styles are right and which are wrong and how to love wine, I cannot help but thinking that the simple and sometimes profound pleasures of wine are lost.

Years ago I was advised to get out of the way as much as possible and let the wine speak, that good wine writing was about wine, not about the writer. It is still good advice today.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Accused Again—Too Expensive

Fri, 02 Nov 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I am hoping that the CGCW blog reader who bragged about buying Muscadet and Bierzo Crianza for under $40 the pair, right after mentioning $80 California wine, was just pulling my chain. Admittedly, it is easily pulled because I have grown weary of the lies and exaggerations—and that includes the notion that the only place to find wines of value is to look offshore. Oh sure, I described that kind of commentary as “myth” the other day, but let’s call it what it really is. Uniformed false information.

Now, let’s be clear. I have no problem with the wines mentioned. Maybe they are just fine, maybe not. That is not the question here. I can match them for beauty and value without even breathing hard.

What I am going to prove in a few short sentences is the utterly base and false nature of the accusation that stands in the middle of the statement.

Here are three Chardonnays that are brilliant wines for the money. The Bjornstad Sonoma County 2010 bottling at $25 is crisp, clean, deep and wholeheartedly recommended in our recent review of the variety. It is joined in the above 90-point range, just to mention a quality marker in passing, by the Stephen Ross Edna Valley 2010 at $24. These are wonderfully balanced and well-proportioned wines. No one is going to accuse either of excess—unless they are simply treated offhandedly by those who have never tasted them but “accuse” them of excess because they are from California. And for those who do not believe that a tight, minerally, no oak Chardonnay is possible here, please give a try to the Lincourt Sta. Rita Hills 2011 at $18.

Okay, so I have sort of painted myself into a corner with the near and over $20 tags on my Chardonnays—and I could have listed a dozen Sauvignon Blancs as well. To make it under the $40 barrier for two wines, I offer the following—again wholeheartedly recommended in Connoisseurs’ Guide through the rigors of blind tastings. Let’s start with Brophy Clark Pinot Noir Santa Barbara County 2009, $16 and add in the Bonterra Pinot Noir Mendocino County 2010, also $16, as very fine choices in balanced red wines whose lively step is sure to please. But, for those wanting something more substantial, say for lamb or pasta, try the Buena Vista Sonoma County Zinfandel 2010, $15, whose zesty fruit is matched to a somewhat fuller but not heavy frame.

That is all I have to say on the subject. These wines speak volumes as proof that there are plenty of priceworthy, balanced California wines. I could go on with these kinds of blind-tasting tested listings for another hundred entries. That is why I object to those who suggest otherwise. They are simply blowing smoke. No need to say more. Try the wines, please.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
A New Yorker Finally Discovers Napa Valley

Wed, 31 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot, with Charles Olken

“Young winemakers are carving out their own niches, overturning preconceptions about the region”. So begins an interesting, and some might say seminal, piece posted earlier this week on the Wine Spectator website by one Talia Baiocchi.* And, no, the place in question is not the Santa Cruz Mountains, the Santa Rita Hills or some small enclave tucked away in the Sierras, it is none other than Napa Valley.

It seems that the place is undergoing a much-needed change…or not. I am not entirely sure just what Ms. Baiocchi is trying to tell us. She writes,

“Napa, in my eyes, hasn't always embodied the sort of raw enthusiasm and sense of possibility that's drawn me to other regions around the world. Part of that is my own prejudice, certainly. When I first got into wine, the thought of Napa Valley conjured images of middle-aged men and women wearing linen and sipping oaky Chardonnay on a veranda. It didn't carry with it the sort of edgy, counter-cultural allure of some of Europe's less-trodden regions. It was, to be frank, uncool.

But that's changed. I've changed. Napa has changed. I've never felt quite as inspired by this region as I am today. “

Now, I welcome new voices especially those with something to say. “New” is the very lifeblood of journalism regardless of topic, but what seems to be new here is far less about the realities of Napa Valley and far more about how Napa is now viewed by someone who sees through the lens of “the new Brooklyn aesthetic”, as fellow writer Blake Gray has dubbed the rising counter culture in that place somewhere near the reality that is Manhattan.

Napa is now cool, and I can breathe a big sigh of relief. Indeed, we all can. We are born again. We are saved from ourselves. Some self-absorbed teeny-bopper from the East has told us so. Thank goodness we have someone “hip” to help us define ourselves.

But wait. Isn’t this just another part of the non-stop condemnation of the “Napa style”, so much of which is coming from the East Coast and from those who look to Europe for their vinous inspiration? We hear that Napa’s wines are too ripe, too oaky, too expensive and indistinguishable one from the other. As anyone who has taken more than an ephemeral look at California wines over the years fully knows, this is an old and familiar refrain that has been heard on and off for decades. It is nothing new. What is new, however, and I think significant, is that one of New York’s hip young opinion makers has just jumped off the bandwagon of derision when it comes to Napa Valley. “Look ma, there’s more than one style there”.

As far as I am concerned, GenNext is not all that different than GenLast when it comes to winemaking passion, commitment and artistic conviction in Napa Valley. Those who would damn Napa with broad, sweeping strokes for the “excesses” of the last twenty years have lately been given to fantasizing about a “golden age” of the 1960s and 1970s whose legacy has been betrayed.

What utter poppycock. The notion that Napa has been asleep at the wheel since the pioneering days of Tchelistcheff, Mondavi, Heitz and Winiarski is as patently offensive as it is egregiously misinformed.

There is plenty of gray hair in Napa, always has been, but there is plenty of vitality and energy and no shortage of those who are willing to look ahead. Always has been. Baiocchi has heard and obviously been inspired by a few voices new to her, but anybody with more than a few weeks of knowledge well understands that they have been there all along. All that was required was to taste and to listen.

In the end, Baiocchi back peddles a bit and admits that the real problem may lie less with the Napa and more with “the image of Napa that was sold hard to the public during my formative years”. I applaud her candor in admitting that her too-narrow view of Napa Valley owed in part to her own prejudice. But even then, the question remains. Where did she get such obviously unknowing views? It was not from visiting the Napa Valley and tasting the continuing expansion of wines coming from there. No one from Napa sold her that image. She acquired it out of ignorance and the “conventional wisdom” that has always separated New York and its provincial, look down its nose attitude from the rest of the world. That her views are at least now growing and expanding is a good thing.

Who knows, it may be that in time she will discover that there are also some pretty good, and hip, wines in Sonoma, Mendocino, Monterey and Santa Barbara as well.

* http://www.winespectator.com/blogs/show/id/47517

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Five Myths About California Wine Die Hard

Mon, 29 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Wine is about what is in the glass. Yet, unfair and inaccurate generalizations about California wine have persisted so long and get repeated so often that they have taken on mythic status. They need debunking, and I am happy to be a proud member of the “truth squad”.

All Chardonnay Is Overoaked, Overripe and Sweet

Most wine critics understand that California Chardonnay was never universally thus, and these same critical voices also understand that the latest vintages have tended to be higher in acid and livelier in personality. What too many of them do not understand, and what the sommelier class has been so slow to accept, is that it is not alcohol levels that determine balance but the whole wine. To be even more blunt about it, too many folks have stuck their heads in the sand and are letting old wives tales dictate what they recommend and what they put on their wine lists. These so-called arbiters of taste have forgotten the first rule of wine. Let the wines speak.

All California Pinot Noir Tastes The Same

Now, we will admit that we are not big proponents of the “terroir is everything” movement. After all, when a Pinot Noir tastes like Syrah, it is hard to find a way to recommend that wine just as it is hard to like underripe, green Pinots. First and foremost, Pinot Noir needs to taste like Pinot Noir. But, the beauty of Pinot Noir is that it can be the most nuanced wine we make, and those nuances, both big and small, are then dictated both by place and by winemaking choice. The argument that Pinot Noir from the western parts of Sonoma County cannot be distinguished from Pinot Noir grown along Westside Road or, more significantly, from Pinot Noir sourced in the Santa Lucia Highlands or Santa Rita Hills gets disproven in every blind tasting. Yet the argument persists. French wines reflect place; California wines do not. Friends, that line of argument is filled with blatant poppycock.

Modern Versions of Napa Valley Cabernet Will Not Age

The notion that wines with alcohols more that 13.5% will not age is being propounded by two types of activists. The first are writers whose palates developed twenty and thirty years ago and have not evolved as the wines of the world have evolved. The second were older winemakers who somehow could not accept change. This is not a new phenomenon, of course. Back forty years ago, when California Cabernets were coming out of the wilderness and into international prominence, the argument was that the California versions might win tastings when they were young, but would fall apart as they aged. That argument proved to be about as useful as flat-earth theories. Still, as a new generation of wines have emerged starting in the 1990s, folks with old palate preferences have failed abysmally to accept that riper wines can be in balance and will age. Well, if “twenty years” is a measure of ageworthiness, then the wines of folks like Pride, Shafer, Rubicon can now be said to have definitively put the lie to the notion that wines over 14% alcohol will be dead at ten years old.

California Sparkling Wine Is Sweet and Low In Acidity

As much as I dislike writers and sommeliers who judge by label and assume that myth is truth, I dislike even more when those folks spread falsehoods because they are factually wrong. I like the restaurant Spruce in San Francisco, but I hate it sparkling wine list. There is not one California bubbly on the list, but there are fifty or more Champagnes, most for show. So, on a recent visit, I asked the sommelier why that was the case, and she informed me that “California sparkling wine is sweet and low in acidity”. I am not making this up. This sommelier for a major restaurant, this sommelier who informs me that she is studying for the Master of Wine credential, is simply full of failed information. And she spreads these uninformed falsehoods as easily as you or I spread room temperature butter on our morning toast. The facts, the measurable facts are that California sparkling wines from good producers are so nearly identical to Champagnes in technical measure as to be virtually indistinguishable. I don’t know why this easily debunked myth continues, but if it allows us to drink our Roederers, Domaine Carneros and Schramsberg bubblies while the uniformed or misinformed drink only French, I guess that is okay with me—as it should be with you because, if you did not know the truth before, you do now.

Climate Change Will Destroy The Napa Valley

It has been argued that climate change will make California coastal vineyards into Syrah territory because they will warm up so dramatically. Yet, even a basic understanding of how the California fog bank works will debunk that myth. The warmer it gets inland, away from the coast, the more fog is generated offshore and will wind up cooling down the coastline. We in San Francisco call it our “natural air conditioning” and if you have ever been visiting the Golden Gate Bridge on a summer’s mid-afternoon, you have discovered why Mark Twain said the coldest winter he had experienced was summer in San Francisco. Rather than experiencing earlier and earlier harvest, the California coastline has been subject to normal to late harvests for more years than not of the last decade and change.

The Bottom Line

Old myths die hard, especially when writers and sommeliers bring preconditioned bias into the equation. The only way for anyone in our business to be up-to-date is to taste and to learn. Some myths are simple misstatements of fact while others are the products of bias and the failure to look at obvious truths. California wines do age; California bubblies do have structures that fit the classic model. It is time for folks who profess to knowledge to actually have knowledge. If not, old and biased preconceptions will continue to exist even in the face of obvious evidence to the contrary.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Finding The Leaders Of The Emerging Grenache Pack

Fri, 26 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

We cannot say with certainty that it will be the “Next Big Thing” in California, but Grenache is well ahead in the pack of would-be new darlings. There is a growing community of winemakers that are now giving Grenache a good look, and we continue to be impressed with its obvious potential as each new vintage comes to market.

Not only are we particularly pleased by what it has shown when grown in cool coastal vineyards rather than in the heat of the San Joaquin Valley, but, when given a bit of real respect in the cellar, Grenache has shown that it can be an involving, immensely satisfying wine. During our recent run down to Santa Barbara County, most of those winemakers we met there spoke of Grenache in glowing terms and confessed to at least limited new plantings in what is otherwise Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Syrah territory.

For the most part, West Coast vintners still look to France for inspiration and mimic winemakers of the Southern Rhône in blending Grenache with Syrah and Mourvedre, yet, even when teamed with its somewhat sturdier cousins, Grenache has a certain unmistakable come-hither charm all its own. While rarely bound up in impenetrable tannin, its best examples are well-structured and balanced, and they exhibit the kind of fleshy richness and depth one expects from a serious wine.

There is a second aspect to California Grenache that makes it deserving of attention, and that is, at least for the time being, the simple fact that the local version can afford outstanding value. In our most recent survey of new Grenache-based bottlings, we very much liked what we saw both in terms of quality and real bang for the buck. It is hard not believe in the grape’s future hereabouts, and it is reasonable to expect that prices will climb as the word starts to get out, but, as our picks of the bunch below demonstrate, there are more than a few marvelous wines to be had that will not break the budget.

PLEASE NOTE: Because Connoisseurs’ Guide has not engaged in the kind of rampant grade-inflation that has affected most of the wine-evaluation community, our “points” may seem low, but, when we put a star symbol on a wine rating, it means that we are recommending that wine, and two stars is a very high rating and given to very few wines. Thus every wine below is heartily recommended.

91 TABLAS CREEK Côtes de Tablas Paso Robles 2010 $30.00
46% Grenache; 39% Syrah; 10% Mourvedre. In this effort, one finds the complex layering and structure belonging to wines of high accomplishment. Its strawberry fruit steers well wide of the frontal, candied side of the Grenache and picks up a wealth of spice, leather and toasted vanilla, and in so doing, has reminiscences of Chateauneuf du Papes in its makeup. Still, it is all California in its ongoing fruit content, and we would serve it with dishes like duck in currant sauce rather than heavier beef or lamb dishes. It is made all the more inviting by its price.

91 TERCERO Larner Vineyard Grenache Santa Ynez Valley 2008 $30.00
The brace of Tercero Grenaches has a lot that is easy to like, but despite being broadly fruity, this one is a bit deeper and better filled with a sense of layering not found in its mates. It is well-ripened, full-bodied and has a fine backbone of integral tannins to ensure longevity, and it is a fairly serious wine that is the one we would pick for mid-term cellaring while drinking the others in the shorter term.

90 MIRO Cuvée Sasha. Monte Lago Vineyard High Valley 2010 $20.00
75% Grenache; 19% Mourvedre; 6% Syrah. The central and constant theme of this likeable wine is that of juicy, very outgoing fruit, and, if fairly direct and lacking complexity, this is a polished and very well-balanced Grenache that is a pure pleasure to drink right now. It is supple and smooth and lightly fleshy, and it is one that is best tagged to be enjoyed in the next couple of years. Note also, please, its inviting price.

88 BROPHY CLARK GSM Santa Ynez Valley 2009 $16.00
48% Grenache; 42% Syrah; 10% Mourvedre. Nicely ripened berry-like fruit is enriched with a sympathetic touch of oak in its clean and well-composed aromas, and the wine follows suit on the palate with well-polished flavors that show a bit of complexing spice and scattered hints of minerals. Supple in feel and very well-balanced with real fruity persistence, this is a delicious wine, yet it does not need to be rushed, and it is one that will improve for a several years if one cares to lay some away in a dark place.

87 BONNY DOON CLOS DE GILROY Grenache Central Coast 2010 $18.00
13% Cinsault; 12% Syrah. Randall Grahm was one of the first locals to see the friendly potential of well-made Grenache, and this latest effort is charged with pert, strawberry-like fruit that is easy to like. It is medium-bodied and infectiously gulpable in its youth, but it has enough spine and structure to keep well for at least a couple of years.

87 JOEL GOTT Alakai California 2010 $18.00
77% Grenache; 17% Syrah; 4% Mourvedre; 2% Petite Sirah. Here is a bright and buoyant young wine whose message is one of fresh, strawberry-like fruit, and, if never complex or showing a great deal of reach, it is a compulsively drinkable, wonderfully well-balanced effort. The Joel Gott label has consistently scored well for value, and this vibrant Rhône blend hits the mark again.

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thorns
Amazingly Beauty in 40 and 50-Year Old California Cabernets

Thu, 25 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

At the invitation of John and Janet Trefethen, the Olkens ventured up to the Napa Valley last Friday night to dine with famed English winewriter, Hugh Johnson. We gathered in the Trefethen’s hillside home, whose surrounding vineyards have yielded the Halo Cabernet that regularly tops of the CGCW tasting charts.

Mr. Johnson who, for most of us who have ever put pen to paper and scribbled out our thoughts on wine, is a close as there is to a diety, has enjoyed a hallowed spot in our lives for decades and decades. In my case, make that decade and decade and decade and decade. The ostensible reason for this soiree was nothing more than his presence among us. But, Mr. Johnson is not a man whose presence goes without attention, and for whom, there will be large quantities of interesting wines to taste.

While I am tempted to bore you with the full and complete details of our conversation, suffice it to say that he espouses the now familiar concerns about California ripeness—albeit with less condemnation than some of our own writers who see excess in every grape that has ripened fully. Mr. Johnson asks questions rather than rattling off narrow philosophies, and, given the many older wines, most of the conversation centered around questions about ageworthiness.

While we all mostly agreed (there were twelve folks gathered around the table all of whom know what they are talking about), that the last decade and a half has yielded wines that are riper than their predecessors, there was no general agreement as to the aging potential of those wines. On that front, it was more questions than answers, and even the most optimistic of us, which would be yours truly, had to admit that we are just now entering the middle age of the riper wines that emerged in the mid-90s.

The wines we tasted on the night gave us good clues, but not definitive answers. Yet those clues are, to me, sufficiently instructive to come up with a defensible theory. Some of the wines tasted carried typical California ripeness about them, but their age meant that they do not come with the elevated alcohols that we see almost across the board today. That said, here is what those wines have taught me yet again.

The oldest of the wines was 1955 Inglenook Cask Cabernet. The wine was in perfect condition, assuming that you will accept that its primary fruit is no longer evident, with rich, focused aromas and a wonderful sense of balance and poise. At 57 years old, it is enjoying a long plateau of useful drinkability, and its currant and tea focus was about as classic as one gets.

Served next were a trio of Beaulieu Georges de Latour Private Reserve Cabernets, dated 1968, 1969 and 1970. With fills up into the neck and corks that came out in near pristine fashion for the 68 and 70 but crumbled for the 69 yet was not a leaker, the bookend vintages, at least, were still loaded with drinking pleasure.

The 1968, at 44 years old, was a joy to behold. Its ripe aromas were deeper and more concentrated than the Inglenook and reminded in focus of the top wines coming from the West Rutherford area today. Dirt is dirt and Cabernet is Cabernet, and while better plant materials, modern trellising systems and global warming may all be contributing to riper grapes at harvest, those influences have not changed the character of the wines coming off the bench so long as they are picked before the grapes wither on the vine.

1969 did not hold up as well and was past its prime but not destroyed, and the 1970 continues to be an exemplary wine. For sure, it is forty years old and counting, and its American oak influence accounts for some of it tangy edges, as does the passage of time, but it was, as it has been for decades now, a clear example of the fruit and tea-leaf complexity that its label has yielded time and time again.

Its still-alive structure led to a comment by our guest that the 1970 California Cabernets had held up better and longer than their fabled Bordelais counterparts. And that comment then led to the question of the evening. Did I think that the current crop of Cabernets, with their higher alcohol levels would be ageworthy? Please note that he did not ask me if they would live forty or fifty years.

And here is why I differ from all the naysayers who predict dire aging results for today’s top wines. Back forty years ago, when the 1970 California and Bordelais wines were both quite successful and the California wines were winning comparative tastings, folks who favored the French wines, meaning Europeans and American wannabes, all said, “Well, they (California wines) might be good today, but they are too ripe and they will fall apart”. Funny thing, the California wines have not but the Bordelais have.

So here we are, today, with a similar set of comparatives. The better California wines do just fine in side-by-side blind tastings with their French counterparts, and they are still getting dinged for being riper. And the same folks who said that the California wines would not age back forty years ago are still saying the same thing today.

Now, let’s be clear that I am not talking about overripe, 15% and up wines in general, although some of them are also going to age just fine, as I will explain in a minute. The majority of collectable-quality Cabs from the Napa Valley and elsewhere are not overripe, dried grape concoctions. They are ripe, and they have fruit, depth, structure and balance just as they did forty years ago. There is no reason to think that today’s ripe and deep wines like Pride, Shafer Hillside, Continuum, Chappellet Pritchard Hill, Hobbs ToKalon, Rubicon, Beaulieu Private Reserve, Staglin and hundreds more like them will all fall apart at ten years old. There was precious little empirical proof back in 1970 that our wines would, in large numbers, be able to age for two, three, even four decades. Today we have that proof.

The 1968 BV smelled ripe the other night. It also was alive at forty-four years. It was, as we sat there, an unmistakable, undeniable hint that today’s wines are really not all that much different. One degree of alcohol higher has not spoiled Bordeaux, and it has not spoiled California Cabs.

That’s my story, and I am sticking to it. One final note: the BVs were all from my cellar and had been stored at fifty-five degrees. Good wines and good storage lead to wines that age well.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday
The Harvest Is Over. Long Live The Vintage.

Tue, 23 Oct 2012 09:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I live on the edge of San Francisco Bay some 25 minutes from Carneros, and it is pretty clear this morning that the 2012 vintage has just about run its course. It is raining. It is raining hard. It is the first serious rain of the season around here, and the folks on the morning news promise that it will be wet for the next several days.

I am sure that there are still grapes hanging here and there, but the weekend was busy in anticipation of inclement weather, and the Fox sports commentators on yesterday’s National League Baseball Championship Series broadcast announced that the 2012 vintage was officially over…so it must be true. Now comes the wait.

The pastime of vintage prediction is as old, I suspect, as winemaking itself. This year, it started back in April, before bud break as I recall, and euphoric claims of a perfect harvest have been daily fare starting a full month before the arrival of Fall. I confess to being excited and hopeful since slogging our ways through several thousand wines from a difficult vintage can be an unhappy task, but, just as there are very good wines to be had from even the most challenging year, that does not mean that everything from 2012 will be a triumph.

Nature has done what nature can, and now it is up to the winemakers. It is often said, even by some winemakers themselves, that wine is made in the vineyard, not in the cellar. I have always found such naturalist sentiment just a bit disingenuous. Yes, great ingredients are necessary for great wine, and it all starts in the vineyard, but wine really does not make itself despite the pronouncements of back-to-nature, born-again bucolics. However much a minimalist he or she may be, winemakers are, I believe, every bit as important as the grapes themselves, and they have the abilities to guide a good wine away from danger and make sure greatness, where greatness exists, is fully expressed. They can also screw up a good thing.

There have been a few journalistic voices of late that seem to incessantly diminish the role of winemakers; to, in fact, damn them for their unconscionable hubris if in any way choosing to do other than sit and stare at the foaming, fermenting juice and allow the wine to make itself. I am not about to defend industrial winemaking as an art, but I begin to break out in a rash these days whenever I hear the term “minimalist winemaking”. It may be the way of congressional politics, but I have never understood how doing nothing was something to be exalted and praised. Knowing when and what to do or not do are at the heart of the winemaker’s art, and are not skill and creative imagination the very engines of art?

So, with the grapes safely in, the winemaker steps up to the plate, and I just wanted to offer a few words of appreciation as their real work begins. I hope their jobs are easy and that the decisions they make come without hand-wringing angst. I hope that the wines of 2012 turn out as good as everyone seems to think that they will. I wish them all a “minimalist” few months ahead, but I understand that doing nothing to “get in the way of the grapes” may, in fact, be doing a lot of no good.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
The Music Did Not Die and CGCW Lingers On

Fri, 19 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Everyone of a certain age must see the day coming when things change. Sometimes, those changes are permanent, sometimes they are anticipated and are ridden out and sometimes they come out of the blue and you just don’t know what to think.

That is where I and Connoisseurs’ Guide were on Sunday night last as I waited in the emergency room of the local hospital worrying that my doctor’s prognosis of a replacement knee operation had finally come true. Not to make too much of a bad thing but the pain was intense and most pain killers were useless. That is when they dragged out the morphine. I can tell you that morphine was once my drug of choice because my first experience with it, also in an ER when I had a gall stone problem, brought on some of the wildest, delightful dreams. Later experiences were less pleasant, but this one was pretty tame except for the trip down memory lane and the fears of the future that it pulled out of thin air.

Well, here is what was going through my wee brain a couple of nights ago. “Oh my god, they are going to take my knee. Let me the hell out of here. Sure it hurts but just give me some more morphine. I’ll call you in the morning if it still hurts”.

I suspect, being the smart folks that you are, you have already figured out the near-term ending to this story. The morphine and something else strong knocked out enough of the pain for me to become rationale again. Or at least semi-rational because the other part of the “music dying”story was my somewhat bizarre conclusion that I might have to step down from Connoisseurs’ Guide—and where would I be then.

Well, by Wednesday, I was at least mobile in a wheelchair, with knee intact, painkillers reduced to more normal levels and CGCW tasting resumed with only a couple of days hiatus. So, on the one hand, I wish to apologize for all this self-centered navel gazing. But on the other, I have had to take stock of where we are and what the future holds for me and for CGCW. No promises, and no campaign rhetoric to follow, I can assure you. Just a few thoughts that are roaming around in my head.

CGCW is more fun, better written, has more content as measured by number of wines reviewed and it casts a wider net than ever before. It is written by a couple of what might be called older folks, and the day will come in the next decade when permanent change will probably occur. In fact, some of it already has—and for the better. Our tasting notes are longer and they are both more highly analytical than ever before, but they are also more filled with detail about the wines, especially the great ones, and their history and ageworthiness now.

And then there is this blog. It serves both our readers and our friends who do not subscribe. It is far more philosophical than the wine-evaluation content of the Guide, and it allows us to roam freely into topical areas that the printed page would not accommodate. Call it “whimsy”, if you like, but whatever it is, this blog is part of the reason we are having more fun than ever before. Someday it gets overwhelmed with hits and somedays not. But that is not the point. What we are doing here is no different from what we do at Connoisseurs’ Guide. We are having fun writing about wine.

That is why the music is not going to die—even when pain and strong drugs take us on introspective ventures that just do not occur on a day-to-day basis. Today is Friday and I am up and walking with a slight limp and fully intend to go to my favorite weekend sporting “game” where once again the boys in red will vanquish the boys in blue or yellow or whatever new color they come up with.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
The Call For Ingredient Labeling Intensifies

Wed, 17 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

A quiet push for ingredient labeling is making its round once again, but please understand that this is nothing new. I applaud those who embrace the notion of ingredient labeling on wine, and I think that it is nice that there are folks like Randall Grahm who are willing to oblige. I do not, however, hold with those who would lobby for laws making it mandatory, and I also think that very few people really care.

I remember when some twenty-five years back after a decade or so of legal jousting and warring opinion about the virtues and pitfalls of ingredient labeling in wine, a caring and conscientious Congress made it the federal law of the land that any bottle of wine would at least henceforward carry government warnings as to its sulphite content. There was, at first, a bit if stir amongst those of us who drink wine, but the real impact on the market seems to have been nil. Wine consumption did not slow. In fact the ranks of those who drink wine grew exponentially in the 1990s and continues to do so today.

Over the course of two decades of teaching, I was rarely asked by my culinary students about said sulphite warnings, and I would guess that no more than a handful were even aware of their existence. Now, bear in mind, these were bright and involved people who paid great attention to the quality and nature of ingredients in the kitchen. When informed of the warnings and why they were there, their reactions were rarely those of grateful discovery and new awareness and more often a shrug of the shoulders and a question of “will this be on the test?”

My point, dear readers, is that if something so ominous as a “government warning” has been so largely ignored, I simply must question just how many people really give a damn about whether or not a wine employs cultured yeast, has been made using yeast nutrients or contains sulphites, bentonite , or, gasp, grape concentrate.

Now, I do not mean to belittle those who want to know, and I would encourage every winemaker to include all pertinent information about ingredients and winemaking technique on his or her label should they like. I confess that I revel in knowing every last piece of minutiae about how a wine is made, but only after I have tasted the wine. I am fully aware that such trivia are in no way reliable predictors of how much I like will the wine, and I do not see why anyone other than we few wine-obsessed scholastics would really care about such information if it did not provide useful markers to quality, character or style.

As Mr. Grahm found out some time ago, while the wine press might view such practices positively, the response from consumers was “largely non-existent”. I would give Randall a very respectful tip of the cap for the honesty of admitting that his intent in adopting ingredient labeling was in part to “publicly claim private virtue”, but I do not see that his hoped-for “beginning of an interesting dialogue” has amounted to much…at least not yet. On the other hand, Mr. Grahm rarely tosses out an idea and runs away, and he will likely lead the “naturalists” into increasingly frequent and loudly stated calls for ingredient labeling.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Brain Power Vs. Nose Power

Fri, 12 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

“If I only knew then what I know now.”

The times I have been visited by that thought are beyond counting, and I know without question that I am not alone. I admit that reflection sometimes comes with a real pang of regret, a wish to redo that which cannot be redone, but as time spent looking back has increased as the years pass and I have more to look back on, retrospection occasionally brings a bit of genuine satisfaction at having actually learned a few things over the years.

Thanks to the wistful and very-worth-reading birthday musings of Ron Washam HMW* earlier this week, Charlie and I were feeling a little introspective ourselves yesterday, and, in between flights of Sauvignon Blanc and Syrah, we talked about if and how we were better or worse tasters than we were a generation (or two) ago. We both quickly agreed that “different” was a better word than “better” or “worse”, but “different” with the very positive twist that we both felt that we were “smarter”.

Now, I often wonder if I am as sharp as I was thirty or forty years back and if, as the Hosemaster argues of anyone whose mailboxes are jammed with AARP propaganda , my powers of smell and taste have been significantly diminished by age and use. I, of course do not think so, but then there is simply no way to compare my acuity of then with now. What I am certain of, however, is that I look at wine from a different perspective these days.

Structure, balance, depth and potential have become my concerns where once my tasting notes were comprised of line after line of adjectives about specific fruits, flowers spice and such. Was that a whiff of blueberry or currant? Did it taste of Braeburn apples or Golden delicious? Was is a Bosq Pear? A Bartlett or Anjou, and were those nuances of Star Anise, Fennel, Fenugreek or Wheat Grass lurking off to the side. And, oh, let’s not forget just how important it was to identify the exact source and cooper of every oak barrel.

Oh, I still enjoy the “name that flavor and smell” parlor games that inevitably infects the wine-obsessed, but understanding a wine has become more important than simply describing it in what are necessarily subjective terms, and that is something that, at least for me, came only with experience. To use the baseball analogy, I know that my fastball is nowhere near what it was, but I have learned how to pitch and feel like I have a couple of 20-win seasons left in my arm.

So, Happy Birthday, Ron, and thanks for the inspiration even if I do not think that was your intent. We may have peaked, but we are still on the plateau, and I do not plan on oxidizing anytime soon.

* http://www.hosemasterofwine.blogspot.com/2012/10/sixty-is-new-three_10.html

Charlie Olken adds:

Steve somewhat misstates my position. I may or may not have lost some nasal acuity, but I am, in my opinion, a far better taster today. The wine that started this conversation was Ojai Sauvignon Blanc McGinley Vineyard 2010. It is too young to enjoy fully, and yet I loved it for precisely the reasons that Steve enumerated above--structure, balance, depth and potential. It will become a genuine beauty with time in bottle, and that thought struck me quickly and with an ease that would not have been possible during my early years here at CGCW. It is not that we did not understand which wines would age well, or at least thought we did, but the “immediacy of knowing” that the Ojai was bound for glory is something that only comes with experience and passion. Steve may not have said it above, but today, after being in this wine-writing business for over three decades, we still come to the tasting table with big smiles on our faces.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
Is Twenty Years “Old” In Wine Or “Young”?

Tue, 09 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I ask that question because the topic of ageworthiness in California Cabernet keeps being raised with negative connotations. And I respectfully but strongly disagree with those who contend that today’s Napa Valley Cabernets will not last and will instead turn into soft, mushy, ripe but unfruity, unbalanced glop in little more than a decade.

Let me start with this thesis: A Cabernet that has aged for twenty years and is still alive, vital and can go further, and which during that time has acquired the rich patina of which older Cabs are capable, has proven that it is ageworthy. We do not need to wait another twenty years to judge it a success.

If you care to suggest a longer standard, please by all means do—and then tell me if you will live long enough to enjoy the wines in your cellar. I could go on and on about my own cellar because I am of an age that have a forty year-old cellar with some wines older than that. And to be sure, some of my older Cabs have not survived forty years with great glory. Many have, however, and the wines that were the stars of my cellar when I bought them back in my salad days are still the stars of my cellar today. Great wines can do that.

All of this reminiscing and pontificating is brought about by an inquiry I received from a respected fellow writer, Evan Dawson, back in New York. He wanted to find out more about the aging of Napa Valley Cabs, and, in particular, he was interested in my views about two related topics:

--Do hillside wines age longer than valley floor wines?
--Are the current batch of valley floor wines no longer as capable of aging well as their predecessors minted before the 1990s?

Below is my rather long email response to him plus a further exchange of views that occurred as he was in the midst of writing his article. Excerpted parts of my comments appeared yesterday in his article in Palate Press, the online wine journal. You can read his entire article at:
http://palatepress.com/2012/10/wine/napa-cult-cabs-theyre-absolutely-getting-screwed/

=== === === ===

Hi Evan--

I think you are onto something here, but I would caution against taking it too far. Let me explain.

There are plenty of examples of hillside wines that age quite well. Ridge is the most obvious example, and it is followed closely by Diamond Creek, Chappellet, Pride and plenty of others.

But the problem is that there are also examples of hillside wines that go too far and have somewhat shorter aging curves. Big, ripe, tannic wines like Kuleto do age, and they do improve but they are never as graceful as less bombastic wines. So, the first caveat in any set of conclusions about wines from elevated sites is construction. It may be an overused term, but balance is still a useful concept.

As for wines from lower sites, there are also plenty of examples of those wines aging well. I have a cellar full of 1970s era Cabs that have held up for forty years. Heitz, Beaulieu, Mondavi being at the top of that list from 1968 to 1970 and Stag's Leap Wine Cellar, Caymus and Montelena for the newcomers in the mid-70s. The Dunn Napa Valley wines have also held up well although perhaps not quite as long as the Howell Mountain.

Among newer wineries whose flatland wines age well, please consider Corison, Spottswoode, Dominus, Rubicon.

There is a tendency among some wine evaluators to equate early accessibility with a lack of ageworthiness. Dan Berger is my number one example here. Dan is a friend, but his views that wines have to be hard and unapproachable to be ageworthy are simply disproven by the wines in my cellar.

One final comment. Back when CA wines did so well in the 1976 Paris tasting, the French and their fans tried to dismiss the results as CA early drinkability and thus they argued that the French wines would be better, more complex in two decades.

A number of "retastings" have been conducted by various groups as the wines aged, but with inconsistent results as to which wines aged better. Sometimes, it was the French wines; sometimes it was the CA wines. There was never any reason to doubt the performance of the flatland CA wines in those tastings.

I guess that the bottom line for me is this: While there may be reasons why hillside wines age well, including austerity of structure, there is no a priori reason to conclude that well-made, balanced, well-structured flatland wines from the makers I have mentioned above do not age well. In fact, the opposite is true. We know that they age well because we have the empirical evidence that they do.

=== === === ===

AND, also, together with a response from Evan Dawson.

Evan--

Any wine with fruit, acid, tannin and proportion that used to age well will continue to age well. Regardless of what Randy says, he is so set in his belief that alcohol is a determinant that I think he misses the point. The wines of today are not all that much changed. One per cent alcohol has not destroyed them.

Shafer continues to age well. Fifteen year old Shafer Cabs are full of life and they run around 15% alcohol. On the other hand, I think some Caymus wines have been pushed too far into softness and ripeness. But Chappellet Cabs age, Spottswoode ages, etc. Diamond Creek. Obviously, I don't have forty years of experience with the riper wines, but the argument forty years ago was that the riper CA wines would not age. But if Shafer and Pride and Staglin age well for fifteen years, and are not soft, toothless and empty shells at that age, there is no reason not to expect them to age well for another decade.

And once we get past 25 years, it is all a crapshoot anyhow—no matter where the wine is grown.

Charlie:

In a message dated 10/1/2012 2:09:08 P.M. Pacific Daylight Time, epdaws@yahoo.com writes:
Charlie,

Thanks for the thoughtful reply. I just had a nice chat with Randy Dunn, and mentioned your comments. He said he agrees, with one exception: He says the valley floor wine you mention are from an era when they were made much differently. "We were doing that at Caymus in the old days. Things have changed."

Do you agree that some of the wines you reference are not good candidates today for aging? Or do you contend that the current vintages are likely to thrive as well?

Cheers,
Evan

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
2012--A Vintage Worthy Of The Name

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Weather watching becomes an obsession this time of the year for those of us inhabiting wine country, and, after a succession of cooler days at the end of September, last week’s heat spike here in the North Coast has us all breathing a bit easier.

Not to say that the harvest was in any sort trouble, but after an early and stellar start to what was generally regarded as an exceptional vintage, there was a bit of a lull as temperatures eased and red varietals other than Pinot went into what might best be called “standby mode.” Well, a few days of triple-digit temperatures have served to jump-start the harvest, and, even accepting that winemakers always manage to find silver linings to even the darkest clouds, this year the excitement of those to whom we have talked is ever more palpable.

Volker Eisele sums it up succinctly by stating that “the real harvest has started” now that Cabernet Sauvignon and its cousins are reaching full physiological maturity. The sentiment seems universal throughout Napa Valley at this point, and we have yet to hear any discouraging words from Sonoma or Mendocino. Renowned grower Lee Hudson in Carneros regards vintage conditions as nothing less than perfect and claims to be getting goosebumps over the remarkable quality of his Merlot grapes, and the transcendent looks of satisfaction that we saw on the faces of Doug Shafer and winemaker, Elias Fernandez, when tasting incoming Cabernet grapes last week said it all.

Our excitement and concerns as reviewers who taste thousands of new wines every year are no less than that of vintners themselves. There is, in all truth, nothing so disheartening as knowing that we will be faced with a challenging year as we were in 2011 in which real successes are the exception rather than the norm. It is simply not possible to have too many good wines, and, while our job is to report on them all, that job becomes one less of work and more of unbridled pleasure when we are able to write more about what is right rather than what is wrong.

As for 2012, we must of course wait until the wines are safely in barrel and bottle, and there is always the possibility of unexpected turns and twists yet to come. Given the vagaries of weather over the past several years we are trying to temper our growing excitement with caution, but excepting for those folks driven by the doctrine that ripeness is a crime, there are smiles enough to go around at this point.

The good feelings hereabouts are becoming downright infectious.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
The Wisdom of Bernard Portet

Fri, 05 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

A small band of writers sat down for lunch with Bernard Portet the other day. Three hours later, we came away with a notebook full of observations that begged for wider distribution.

Bernard Portet first came to California in 1968 from Bordeaux where his father managed Chateau Lafite. He soon was put in charge of creating a winery in the Stags Leap District called Clos Du Val. His very first vintages, in the early 1970s earned favorable reputations for both the winery and for himself. When he retired from Clos Du Val in 2009, he quickly found himself doing what so many other winemakers do. He started his own brand called Heritance. Its first wines are just being released, and not surprisingly, they look to Bordeaux for inspiration and will include both Sauvignon Blanc and Cabernet Sauvignon.

But today’s entry is not about wine. It is about the thoughts of a man whose forty years and more in the California wine business has made him one its most respected personnages. Herewith, without any further comment from me, is “The Wisdom of Bernard Portet”.

• I have made wine on four continents, and I love the opportunity to make wine all over the world, but my heart is here in California now.

• If you asked me if there was anything I might have changed in my career, it would have been to spend more time in Bordeaux. But I was one of the earliest people in the growing California wine scene, and that was especially true in the Stags Leap District where it was all wheat fields and very few grapes when we got here.

• I like the cooperative spirit that I found in the Napa Valley from the moment I arrived. In our first vintage, we had a couple of equipment breakdowns right in the middle of harvest. We were able to borrow pumps and other equipment to keep on going. I don’t think it would have been that easy to solve a breakdown on a Friday afternoon in Bordeaux.

• I grew up in Europe, and perhaps that is why I like a somewhat lighter wine and why I have always made somewhat lighter wines. But there is no right or wrong in matters of taste, and I don’t see why some people try to say that their way is the right way. There is no “right way”.

• With our new Heritance venture, my son, who is our sales manager, is pushing me to make a fuller-bodied, rounder wine than has been my style. Maybe we will, but it will still be a wine with vitality and a light step.

• The biggest change I have seen in the Napa Valley and maybe throughout California is that it is harder now to start a family winery, especially in the most intensely farmed areas. That was definitely not the case when I first came here.

• When I came here, one of the first things I noticed that was that California wines tended to have a little higher alcohol than French wines made from similar grapes. It was not long before it was clear to me that the mix of soils and climate meant that it was necessary to pick grapes a little riper than I was used to in order to achieve balanced wines.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Wine Opinions: Do You Like Them Ecumenical or Parochial

Wed, 03 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Is it wrong for wine professionals to recommend a wine they do not like? Should they be writing narrowly for themselves or more broadly for their audience?

A couple of weeks back, Blake Gray made a fairly provocative observation about the confluence of practice and personal belief when reviewing Eric Asimov’s new book, How to Love Wine, and it has since been sitting quietly and persistently in the back of my thoughts. He wrote:

“It's a personal story, not an encyclopedia or teaching book, and at the beginning I noticed where I disagreed with it. My focus changed with a simple sentence that I strongly believe, but few other wine professionals seem to:

"I have a great deal of difficulty recommending wines that I don't care for myself."

It is a sentiment for which I have some degree of sympathy, but it is also one that flies in the face of any notion of relativism and respect for varying styles and tastes, and it runs very much counter to the oh-so-tiresome populist mantra of the day that “whatever you like is right,” and that quality lies solely in the eye of the beholder.

Now, I call Blake’s comment “provocative” in the truest sense of the word in that it very much incites thinking, especially the added phrase “but few other wine professionals seem to”.

Is recommending wines that you do not personally care for a failing? Is it equally so for every wine professional or even every wine writer for that matter, or is not doing so a luxury limited to those concerned with crafting editorials and telling stories.

As a writer/reviewer with over thirty years of experience, I can honestly say that I do not find it at all difficult to recommend a wine made in a style that I might not chose for myself as long as that wine is well-made and hits all the right marks for that style. I suspect that at the beginning of my very long journey, I was rather more doctrinaire in my views than I am now, but today I like to think that the years have brought a bit of perspective to what I do.

Yes, we do award points and rankings to wines here a Connoisseurs’ Guide. “Points” are the lingua franca of the day, and some sort of hierarchical framework for review cannot be avoided, but it is the descriptions of those wines that is the focus of our work, and accurately describing a wine that I may not pick for myself does not mean that it is summarily dismissed or damned with a low score. There are good wines that simply are not my cup of tea. I will, for example, rarely reach for a high-octane Zinfandel or a wiry, acid-laced Pinot that immediately sets my teeth to buzzing, but I hope that I never lose sight of the simple proposition that style and quality are not the same things.

I cannot imagine a retailer refusing to stock and recommend wines whose styles may not please him or her but have a real following among its clients, and most restaurant wine lists should, I think, have a certain ecumenical flavor.

While I in no way support the idea that quality is wholly subjective, I do recognize that even among very good wines, one size does not fit all.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
The Acid Test

Mon, 01 Oct 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

It happened again. The local rag referred to “more friendly European wines”. The phrase has become code for lower alcohol, higher acid wines of a type that grow in some parts of Europe. It obviously does not mean Bordeaux or the southern Rhône or Cahors or even Le Montrachet and La Tache.

Now, I don’t mind if someone thinks lighter is preferable. I don’t dispute matters of taste. But I do dispute matters of name-calling because it borders on the childish. Worse than that, it borders on bullying when newspapers of record tell their readers that one style is more friendly than another.

But, I digress. Rather than complain about this continuing cupidity, I have put the matter to the acid test. Do my rather well-heeled, wine-drinking, non-geeky neighbors like bracing acidity or do they like rounder and richer flavors.

The test could not have been simpler. Put out a bunch of wines with varying degrees of briskness but with more or less similar critical ratings and see who likes what. You could call it Jon Bonne and Dan Berger meet Robert Parker and Connoisseurs’ Guide, except that the high acid California wines were as much my choices as theirs. The test was conducted with labels showing and nothing more scientific than seeing who drank what and slyly quizzing some of the more enthusiastic bibbers about what they liked and why.

I expected the rounder wines to be preferred and was surprised that they were not. But, neither did the higher acid wines dominate. What happened instead is that some people just loved the brisk bite of Roederer bubbles and some preferred the rounder, richer Gloria Ferrer. Some liked the very ripe Cotes du Rhône Villages and some preferred the brisker Qupe Syrah. And so it went across half a dozen non-scientific challenges.

Now, all of this is anecdotal and non-scientific, and clearly I did not include sweet wines like Rombauer Chardonnay or wines I consider to be overripe for my general interest. These were my wines after all. But, what I glean from this is that there is no clear preference for one style or another and that each palate is so different as to defy even generalizations within families.

All of which brings me back to the name-calling. There is a not-so-subtle put down of California wines in the local rag, and it is so far from reality as to be laughable. Apparently, the author has never heard of Peay or Bjornstad or Alma Rosa and has continued the near-libelous accusation that European wines are lighter and thus more interesting.

My neighbors would disagree and do not care for labels—only for taste. Isn’t that what wine should be about?

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Will Amazon Kill Local Wine Merchants

Fri, 28 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Sales and the state of the market have been at the forefront of this week’s internet wine chatter, and one of the more significant stories of all has been the imminent jump into wine retailing by the biggest online player of them all, Amazon.com.

Several years back, Amazon was poised to enter into the wine arena but abandoned its plans owing to issues of liability and compliance with California law that did not clearly define the role and responsibilities of affiliate, third-party sites such as Amazon.com and apparently prohibited the abilities of those sites to profit in any online sales of beer or wine. Late last year, however, the California Alcoholic Beverage Control (ABC) issued an advisory clarifying the issues and giving the green-light to third party internet sales as a way to assist California’s wineries, large and small, in reaching new markets.

According to Wine Industry Insight*, Amazon’s business model is long past the planning stage and there are expectations that the Amazon wine “portal” should be up and running within the month, just in time for the coming holiday season.

As a price-conscious consumer, I cannot help but be excited about what is to come, but, at the same, time, as a wine-lover, I do have a few questions as to how this wine impact the independent, brick-and-mortar wine retailers. I have long believed that the classic wine retailer, is among the most important and underappreciated players in real wine education for interested consumers looking to learn, and I wonder what the click-and-go buying options that have redefined sales in every imaginable commodity might mean to my favorite friendly corner wine shop.

Now, it may be that larger retailers such as Bev-Mo and the like may feel the impact the most, much in the way that Barnes and Nobles and Border’s have taken significant hits as discounted, on-line sales of books have soared, but I do worry that the smaller, hands-on wine retailers who have the time, passion, knowledge and willingness to actually talk and listen to me will have a much tougher row to hoe.

There is no question that there has been a trend of late for serious wine retailers to refine and scale back their inventories with an eye to quality and value, and I very much hope that their niches are secure and that they survive this latest round of retail evolution. Time will tell.

In the meantime, I would once again call attention to and urge support for those in the business of dealing with fine wines as something unique and special. While adaptation is a never-ending part of any business success, I cannot envision a time when clicking a link on a screen will provide that same very personal satisfaction I find when patronizing an attentive, well-informed wine merchant.

* Amazon http://wineindustryinsight.com/?p=45955

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Looking Beyond The Classics For Great Wine Choices

Wed, 26 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

It is easy to slip into “old fart” lamentations of how things used to be different…always better, of course. It is the “good old days” syndrome, and few of us are immune. It happens in most every discipline, and it surely has happened in wine. I hear it all the time. Sometimes it is subtle and even unrecognized by those who wistfully muse on the past…and sometimes rather more blatant and grating with something approaching religious indignation at the utter heresy inherent in most anything new.

I confess that my moments of retrospection sometimes give rise to a certain suppressed jealousy that I can no longer afford to drink those marvelous wines that sparked my life-long love affair with the fruit of the vine. Wealthy trophy hunters have conscripted those iconic bottlings that were once my close, if ultimately disloyal, friends.

I would also be lying if I did not admit that I occasionally look back on a simpler time when mastery of the vinous world was easier. There were fewer well-made wines for consideration, and the boundaries of greatness were essentially agreed upon as being innate and not subject to the “eye of the beholder” rationalizations that 21st century criticism invokes but rarely believes. There were exhalted vineyards and vintners that any rightfully attuned wine lover would recognize as being superior, or at least so it seemed. I recall that when I was disappointed with this or that wine of high pedigree, I took the blame rather than damning the wine. I assumed that a little more education and experience would open my eyes, and a bit of welcoming wine journalism was there to help. I do not recall being insulted about my likes or dislikes, and winemakers were not subject to the pious scolding that has become all too frequent these days.

Yes, there are reasons enough to look back and sigh, but, as they say, you can’t go home again, and I do not know that I would really want to even if I could.

Today, there are far more really good wines to be had that ever before, and the diversity of varietals, vintners, vineyards and winemaking style is nothing less than extremely exciting. In his explanation of why he ceased publication of the Quarterly Review of Wines, John Elia bemoans the loss of culture and the colorful winemaking personalities and the ascendance of nameless and faceless technocrats.* I would argue, however, that there are conscientious winemakers galore in all corners of the world whose talents, pure passion and driving curiosity make any lamentations for a past golden age seem silly at best, and they know how to make wine. I may drink far fewer (far, far fewer) Classified Clarets and Cru Burgundies than I once did, but I do drink great wines on a more frequent basis simply because there are so many of them. They may be not priced for everyday gulping, but neither are they prohibitive in cost.

Fond remembrance is fine, but I have grown increasingly impatient with those who tirelessly whine that we have gone astray, that big-budget production on the one hand and the toadying pursuit of critical praise and points on the other have destroyed the winemaker’s art.

This consumable and impermanent art we call wine is in fine shape folks, and the proliferation of clean, affordable , simple, quaffable wines in no way threatens the good stuff. Those who bemoan a loss of culture and see a barren, sterile future are simply not paying attention. There is a new generation of wine drinkers, and it is a global one. Not everyone in it will become a connoisseur and collector, but there will be plenty who do, and they are the certain insurance against the demise of fine wine. The culture of wine will change as any culture must, but great wine will go on.

* http://qrw.com/features/winesdecline.htm

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Clashes of Wine Styles—Everywhere

Mon, 24 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I occasionally find myself wondering what the San Francisco Chronicle winespeaker will come up with next. Certainly, his tastes and mine do not exactly align. One of his latest columns has struck an unusual chord with me.

Mr. Bonne, who may spend too much time looking for the next big thing and thus can miss the central point at times, pointed out quite accurately that Anderson Valley Pinot Noirs have an array of styles even as he decried the “incursion” of big wineries from the Napa Valley and then commented that too many Anderson Valley wines had hard edges and roasted flavors.

Frankly, no one is going to argue with the latter premise—although seeking to blame the lack of success that some wines from the area have experienced on the Napa Valley is a bit of a reach. Since he did not name names, I did a search of the CGCW database and came up with just a couple of Napa players. The most significant name, and certainly a label that has offered very ripe wines of the type that Mr. Bonne tends to dislike is Goldeneye, owned by Duckhorn. There may be a couple of other minor players, but that is it. Yet, the list of very ripe Anderson Valley names does not begin and end with Goldeneye.

Now one can argue about the standing of Goldeneye Pinots. CGCW has liked them in the past and has found some that were pushing the limits of ripeness. Preference is not really the issue here. Accuracy is.

And the greater inaccuracy in the article is the suggestion that a range of styles is somehow an Anderson Valley issue. Mr. Bonne says it was hard for him to get his head around Anderson Valley wines. I wonder how he does with the Russian River Valley Pinots that range in ripeness from hard and high acid to lush and rich. What about those from the Santa Rita Hills? That very cool area produces a range of wines that run from brittle to viscous.

The point is not that Mr. Bonne knows not where he speaks. He is a smart and studious observer. It is, rather, that he makes too much of the issue. There is a range of styles from virtually every producing area that has more than a handful of vintners. Rutherford Cabernets have a wider range than Anderson Valley Pinots, for example.

And perhaps more to the point, we ought to be thankful for a range of styles. There is no right answer for all wines. The very different and equally brilliant Cabernets of Corison and Staglin prove that point. The remarkable Pinots of Dehlinger and Dutton Goldfield reinforce it. The Zinfandels of Dashe and JC Cellars, winemakers and friends who make wine in the same building in Oakland, put the exclamation point on it.

Wine is not monolithic. If it were, the remarkable Dagenau Pouilly-Fumés, the powerful DRC Le Montrachet, the Frank Cornelissen and Scholium Project wines could not exist because they would be thrown out for breaking the rules. Sometimes, the way to wrap one’s head around an area is to celebrate its array of wines—not to be confused because it does.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Mr. Kramer Goes Overboard—“Reserve” Wines Are Not “Bunco”

Fri, 21 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

During my long tenure as an instructor at the California Culinary Academy, most every class sooner or later asked me about the meaning of often seen terms such as “Reserve”, “Private Reserve”, “Special Selection”, et. al. on a California wine labels. I would usually throw the question back directly and asked what they thought it meant, and I would hear answers ranging from “best” to “nothing at all” to “cynically marketing hype”. I had to admit that every response was correct, and the terms still cause a goodly deal of confusion and even rancor when the topic is raised among those who like to talk about wine.

This past week, in fact, Matt Kramer warned against believing that the “Reserve” designation necessarily meant that a wine was of high quality, but then he went too far in offering up the following advice…”California is the hands-down winner in the “Reserve” bunco game. Let me make it as simple for you as possible: if you see a wine from California designated “Reserve”, run!”

Well, Mr. Kramer, I respectfully and emphatically disagree and would in turn warn of the pitfalls of ridiculously pat answers.

It is true that here in California, the term “Reserve” and all of its permutations have no legal meaning, and none comes with the guarantee that a wine has met some quantifiable standard for quality. It does not, however, that such designations have no meaning at all. They mean, quite simply, whatever a winery chooses them to mean. And, more often than not, those terms in hands of reputable makers mean that the producer has chosen wine believed to be special.

There was a time when only a small handful of producers such as Beaulieu, Charles Krug, Inglenook and Mondavi employed such terms, and they signaled not only a winery’s best effort, but also a wine assembled with great care and bearing a price meant to convey the intended up-quality results. Then, sometime around 1980, there was a sudden explosion of labels employing the wholly unregulated “Reserve” designation, and what was once an almost entirely meaningful and reliable term became the stuff of big-budgeting marketing. It was and still is hard not to be cynically dismissive of the term these days, but if you were to run from any California wine labeled “Reserve”, as Mr. Kramer suggests, you might be running from an extremely remarkable wine.

Yes, there are literally millions of cases of everyday wine and worse that come dressed up with the word “Reserve” in their titles, but that should not mean that those who use the term conscientiously should be summarily dismissed as bunco artists. Now I admit that there are times when “Reserve” works its way onto the labels of those for whom high quality is antithetical to their business models, but, I for one will never refuse a glass of “Reserve” anything from wineries like Pride, Lewis, Frank Family, Beaulieu, Robert Mondavi, Lewis and Dehlinger to name but a few.

So, what is the wine lover to do? A little homework is my answer. If you are expecting that $6.00 “Reserve” to be an eye-opening experience, well, think again. But, do not automatically assume that a pricey “Reserve” is no more than a trick. Yes, do a bit of homework, and find out just what this or that winery means by the term. Ask your favorite retailer. Call the sommelier to the table. Read what folks who write about wine for a living have to say…and then make your decision.

To borrow Mr. Kramer’s words, the biggest “modern wine fallacy” is the idea that there are easy, yes-or-no answers, quick litmus tests and fast tracks to understanding fine wines, and that goes for everything from alcohol levels and winemaking technique to the way a producer might chose to label his or her wines. Real wine appreciation is a process. It is a journey of discovery that takes some thought and the willingness to ask questions. It takes some homework, yes, but homework of the most delicious sort.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
A Piece of Wine News That’s Fit to Spit

Wed, 19 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Reading the “Wine News” is important. How else would we learn that heavier wine bottles appear more expensive to 150 people who were asked that question?

Most wine news these days comes preciously close to “press release” quality—a cork producer is trying to learn the role of oxygen in wine and feels the need to tell us; Spanish producers are adding grape skins to their cheap reds to make them look darker; or consider this headline “Grape Growers Urged To Embrace Data”.

Folks, these kinds of stories are about as relevant to my day as Clint Eastwood talking to an empty chair is to a discussion of movie star sanity. But, there is, amidst all this wasted paper and overflowing electrons that crowd the in box of my computer, some real wine news. And I am here to interpret it for you.

Consider this title: “Fine Wine, Poor Returns”. Seems that some rich collector has discovered that wine is for drinking, not for making money through hoarding. That at least is the title of the article. It turns out, of course, that he made a great deal of money hoarding older Bordeaux. Those names, the ones that were affordable in my youth and are now hundreds and even thousands of dollars a bottle upon release today, made a rich man even richer.

But, he got a lot poorer when it came to lesser wines. Or to be blunt about it—to lesser wines in the world’s eye. Because as Mr. Rich Guy proved to the auctioneers, his older Napa Valley Classics were greatly undervalued. Sure, his 1974 Heitz Martha’s Vineyard in magnum sold for thousands of dollars (music to my ears, by the way as that wine will someday make my kids rich since I do not sell my wine), but his 1968 Beaulieu Georges de Latour Private Reserve was valued at just $100.

Turns out that the wine in question, at forty years old, when tasted alongside the heralded 1982 Lafite Rothschild, more than matched the French wine for sheer glory. That is also music to my ears. I am of the same vintage as Mr. Big Collector Guy and I have that wine and its mates from 1969, 1970 and 1971 in my cellar. And I too marvel at how beautiful those wines are at their advanced age.

Mr. Collector Guy commented that he is often loathe to drink his expensive wines. I have no such loathing, and while that is not news of any import to the world, here is the important takeaway from this story.

Wine is for drinking. It matters not what its current value is. I may have overcollected (hoarded, if you will), but when I recently went out to Michael Mina’s eponymously named restaurant in San Francisco where the Heitz Martha’s was on the wine list at $2500, it gave me great pleasure to pull a bottle of that wonderful elixir out of my cellar and bring it along. My bottle cost $25 and some electricity—and I was able to drink it. That is the point of the news. Drink your wine; don’t count it.

Now this story should end here. But, it has a tail, and one that also added to the pleasure of that visit to Michael Mina. The sommelier was offered a taste of the wine—something I do whenever I bring an older bottle to a restaurant—and he responded by bringing me a taste of 1982 Chateau Margaux that was somehow available. It is at this point that Mr. Collector Guy and I merge our stories. The older California wine was every bit as good as the younger Bordeaux. Both were glorious, and in this case, at least, both were fully valued in some auction market somewhere.

I may be unable to open some of my last bottles of fabulous wines I have collected, but never stopped short of drinking all the other bottles in the case. To me, they are just a few bucks and some electricity, not rarities to stare at until I sell them for a profit—or not as the case turns out to be for some older California wines.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
Don’t Say “Wine” on a Crowded Bus

Tue, 18 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

You could say I learned that lesson yesterday on the way home from the 49ers game. My buddy, Rich, with whom I have been sharing sports, travel, wine and food for decades now, innocently asked me, “What are you tasting tomorrow?”.

“We have some Sauvignon Blancs and some sparkling wines and I’m not sure which.” Within seconds the couple behind us from England (appropriately dressed in their new 49er gear) and the couple from Detroit seated next to where we were standing were engaging me in wine conversations.

“Where should we go in the Napa Valley?” “We are headed down the coast to Los Angeles. Any tips for interesting stops along the way?” “Do you have a favorite wine bar in San Francisco?”

Frankly, I never mind these types of conversations. It is fun to talk about wine, and it is great fun to share ideas with people who may have come to California for other reasons but are happy to pay attention to our wine while they are here.

I did not get to talk to the Detroit couple much, but the English couple were quite another story because I asked them the question that was the equivalent of saying wine in a crowded bus. They had told Rich and me that they were from London, and by way of polite conversation, I asked, “Did you get to any of the Olympics”?

Well, yes, the big fella responded. “I was a member of the British eight-man crew rowing team. We won Bronze in that competition”.

Looking back at those conversations, it reminded me again of how broad wine’s appeal really is. Neither couple were big-time geeks. Both were members of the most important consuming class—the millions of folks who drink wine, like wine but do not make a fetish out of it. It is they, and not us—the geeks and collectors—who consume most of the wine that is made in this world.

They are the people who walk into the local wine merchant and ask questions about what to buy rather than telling the folks who work there what they should keep in inventory. They may not the folks who subscribe to Connoisseurs’ Guide or who read this blog, but they are drivers of the economic engine that allows the rest of us to become peripatetic wine searchers, never fully educated students of the fermented grape no matter how much we try, collectors with too many wines in our cellars.

Come to think of it. I am quite glad that I said “Wine” in that crowded bus.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Pinot Noir Quality Transcendent

Fri, 14 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

There is no question that 2009 and 2010 were challenging vintages hereabout, and it is hard get winemakers to say anything nice about 2011. It would, however, be hard to believe that there was anything other than clear skies, balmy days and perfect, cool evenings in the vineyard if all you were tasting these days was Pinot Noir.

We are putting the last editorial touches on our upcoming issue, and part of what that always entails is a careful retasting of every wine that suddenly performs at a much higher level than ever before or one that hits an atypically discordant note after years of success. We also revisit any wine that is under consideration for a rating of or higher just to make sure, and, needless to say, that is one of the more enjoyable monthly tasks that we face.

We started this week by revisiting several dozen high-achieving new Pinot Noirs. The day was long, the work was real, and, at the risk of sounding too much like cheerleaders, we were rewarded by nothing less than a genuine embarrassment of riches. That, nonetheless, is not the point of this morning’s musings.

It has long been my belief, and I have so stated here, that Pinot Noir is especially adept at revealing ever-so-elusive terroir and speaking quite clearly to the place in which it was grown. Perhaps that is because, in both France and California, so many producers work with so many different and individual vineyards, there are simply far more opportunities to see the notion at work. We have seen through the efforts of Ravenswood, Ridge and from past Rosenblum offerings that Zinfandel can take on any number of guises, and I confess to occasionally wondering if more Cabernet or Syrah bottlings might reveal the same infinite and yet very specific variations that Pinot effortlessly shows if more of their makers made multiple small lots from several vineyards each year. There is plenty of evidence that that would indeed be the case, but after tasting our ways through lots of very good and different wines from Dutton Goldfield, Saintsbury, MacPhail and Kosta Browne to name but a few, it was easy to come away with my convictions about Pinot intact.

The other thing that strikes me about good Pinot Noir is the distinctive and indelible mark that a winemaker leaves on his or her wines. Pinot again provides a unique opportunity to see this at work as we now have plenty of instances where several, and sometimes many, top-notch winemakers all work with fruit from the same vineyard. Vineyard names like Bien Nacido, Sanford & Benedict, Rosella’s, Garys’, Pisoni, Keefer Ranch and Rochioli are seen on more than one label, and, when tasted together, carefully made Pinots of the same provenance assuredly do not blur into sameness.

There are, I would argue, certain grapes that yield wines of real transparency that respond more readily than others to the influences of vineyard and vintner. They are ultimately those that make something that transcends simple beverage and inspires connoisseurship, and, while I am not about to turn my back on any of the great red varietals, Pinot Noir remains for me the most intriguing and infinitely interesting of the bunch.

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thorns
How Not To Open A Bottle of Wine

Thu, 13 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Last night, Steve Eliot broke my favorite cork-puller. I have others, so please do not worry that my thirst will no longer be slaked by a rich Chardonnay or juicy, bracingly balanced Riesling or by one of the bountiful array of grand Pinot Noirs that were gracing my table at the time.

No, this story is not about thirst. It is about a sense of loss. One can have lots of favorites, but one can only have one “very favorite”. And Steve broke it. It will no longer wait patiently for me in the basket on the sideboard of our tasting room, which also happens to be my dining room. Now, when I reach for something to pull the cork on the next bottle of wine, I will have to settle for second best.

I feel the same way about my favorite bottle of wine—or to be perfectly honest, about my favorite bottles of wine. I am often asked to name my favorite wine of all time and I refuse. “I can name fifty favorites of all time, but not just one”. These are wines so grand that I shudder to open them lest, like my favorite cork-puller, they will not exist anymore.

And so it is that my cellar is populated with a bunch of “orphans”—wines that are the last of their vintage. I have kept that last bottle of 1971 Freemark Abbey Chardonnay on the shelf of my cellar for almost four decades. I can’t bear to open it. It was one of the very first great wines I collected, and I enjoyed every bottle in the case box—except that last one with which I cannot part.

In fact, I have a whole corner of my cellar devoted to old white wines that I refused to open lest I be without them. Chalone Pinot Blancs and Chenin Blancs, Stony Hill Chardonnays, Mayacamas, Spring Mountain, even Joseph Swan Chardonnay—although admittedly, it is the older Swan Zins and Pinots in the opposite corner that I can rarely bring myself to open.

I can’t really defend the practice of keeping rare and beautiful wines until then have aged into senility and are now merely trophies. It makes only slightly more sense than worshipping my favorite corkpuller, which was nothing more than one of those two-pronged things that you slide down between cork and bottle neck and twist. Sometimes they break, which is something a more regular corkscrew rarely does.

But this one was my favorite. It came with the Connoisseurs’ Guide logo handsomely inscribed on its sheath and it has been in the family now for a couple of decades. And Steve broke it. He might as well have drunk up my last bottle of 1974 Heitz Martha’s Vineyard Cabernet.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
The New Wine Demagoguery

Mon, 10 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

There is an old saying that someone who is so bound up in concerns of small details “cannot see the forest for the trees”, but in the contemporary realm of wine writing, both professional and amateur, I am beginning to wonder if it is not the other way around. I am increasingly getting the uneasy sense that too many true-believing folks are so concerned with preaching a new one-way orthodoxy ranging from from low-alcohol to “natural” wines, from wholly hands-off winemaking to impossible-to-define “balance” and such that they, in fact, no can longer see the trees for the forest.

In my world, a wine should stand or fall on its own, because it tastes good, meets my standards for balance and provides intrinsic pleasure and not because it fits within some tidy and inevitably simplistic paradigm. And, I am tired of enlightened charlatans screaming from the pulpit and brandishing their sets of commandments as to how any wine worth drinking must be made.

Anyone who pays even sporadic attention to wine has heard it all. All wines over 14% alcohol are failed. If it is not natural, it is not worth drinking. If a winemaker actually puts his or her individual stamp on a wine that some sacred covenant with nature has been violated. All Napa Cabernets are woefully over-made, and Russian River Pinots have lost their identity. There is no difference in one New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc from another, and Bordeaux has sadly become a parody of its once-great self. I could go on, but you get the drift.

Now sometimes the message is sneaky and subtle and sometimes so blatant as to be downright laughable, but at the heart of them all is a self-righteousness certainty that makes comprehending the vast world of wine far simpler. I mean, after all, there are thousands and thousands of wines out there, and getting to understand even a significant fraction requires time, real study and extensive tasting. It is just too much work. Just as religion makes a chaotic and terrifyingly inexplicable universe livable, perhaps the new orthodoxies do the same for wine.

The great irony in all of this is that almost every commentator says that taste is a matter of choice, that the consumer should like what they like and not be dependent another’s opinions, but then they turn around and impose rules and sniffle derisively at those who would disagree. Worse, they all want to remake the world in their own vision. It is not enough to say what you like, now you must out the offenders and get them to change their errant ways. Yep, it’s getting a little too close to religion to me.

Demagoguery thrives when it promises to bring order to chaos, but, when it comes to my favorite drink, I think that a little chaos and infinite variety just might be the stuff of real art.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Reports of Blogging’s Death Are Premature

Fri, 07 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Blogging got a good name before it got a bad name. Blogging was supposed to democratize wine writing, but it did not. Blogging was the future; now some think it is the past. As usual, the sensationalists have got it wrong again.

Jamie Goode, the important English writer and bloggist wrote, “Blogging had this golden age where people were happy to be defined as bloggers, and there was a sense that the blog was supplanting other forms of online communication. Blogging was cool, it was sexy, and it seemed to be the future. But the golden age of blogging has passed. We’re left with the sense that blogs have never really fulfilled their promise. Within a short time, I don’t think we’ll be describing people as bloggers any more, the way we have been doing for the last few years. Blogs will still be with us, and some will be very important, but they’ll not be centre stage.”

Tom Wark, in his brilliant blog, Fermentation (http://fermentationwineblog.com/), has been proving that good writing will never die whether called blog or not. He recently commented on Jamie Goode’s “discovery”.

Sayeth Mr. Wark, “Jamie Goode is only one person with one opinion, but it’s an opinion to take seriously as he is a serious writer. He’s right. Not too many years ago blogging, including wine blogging, did seem a little sexy and it most certainly was something new, if not the “future”. I further think he’s correct that the shine is dulling a tad. A dulling shine is not such a bad thing.

“My evaluation of the world of wine blogging centers around its utility, not it’s shine. For this writer and wine marketer, more and more I see the gulf between “wine writer” and “wine blogger” narrowing. In other words, the task of communicating the meaning of wine and explaining the significance of the wine industry is now being accomplished by a growing cohort of writers. Some are professional and get paid to act as a professional. Others are amateurs. Some are better writers than others. Some are more informed than others. Some have large audiences. Others small followings. But just like in the arenas of technology, politics, news, fiction, archeology and any other domain of things and information, the consumers (readers) are lumping together blogs, websites, newspapers and books into one thing: sources of information.

“The degree to which a blog, newspaper, magazine, professional writer or amateur writer can successfully convey useful, educational or entertaining information determines their utility to the reader.”

For my part, I have always disliked the seeming distinction between blogging and other forms of publically offered communication. It has always seemed to me that blogging, and more specifically, wine blogging, was journalism. The act of putting facts or opinions or just plain verbiage into print, is the essence of journalism.

The “coming together” that Mr. Wark describes is only, in my view, a recognition of this fact. Good writing, of the type that folks like Mr. Wark, Alder Yarrow, Blake Gray, Steve Heimoff, Samantha Dugan, Ron Washam have been producing has been part of the wine information scene from its very outset.

When blogs first began to exist, I wondered if my form of journalism, the kind people pay for, was dead. Turns out that it is not. In part, that is because of inertia–Connoisseur’s Guide had paid readers before blogging–and, in part because the product on offer here is one that many people find fungible.

Most of those who get paid for winewriting exist in two camps. Those write for existing, printed on paper publications. A few of us have transitioned to the Internet, but mainly because we do not rely on advertising but on subscribers for our revenue streams.

The folks who make no money, either directly or indirectly, run the gamut from professional to rank amateur. A few newcomers have found a way to make money on the Internet, but blogging has not been and is not going to be the pathway to fame and fortune, or even to free wine, for most bloggers.

Blogging is journalism. It provides information of all kinds, and it has enabled a few amateurs to become solid professionals. In that, blogging has succeeded.

But, blogging is not dead because it did not succeed financially the way many hoped it would. And blogging is not dead because the majority of it lacks large audiences. The only problem with blogging is that it can be terminally boring at times. There are only so many words and so many repeated topics that one can enjoy before going off to do other things. I feel the same way these days about the Sunday NYT. I love it, but I can’t read the damn thing anymore.

So, here’s to blogging. Enough people are now accepting that it is journalism. That does not save boring from being boring, but it does at least admit that there are journalistic standards to be applied at some level. That is a measure of success in the first instance, and proof that blogging is not going to go the way of the hula hoop and VHS at any time soon in the second.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Assessing The Role of “Place” In Wine Quality

Wed, 05 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I like a wine that very specifically speaks to its place, and I like a good many that do not. I know that may sound like heresy, but it is the truth. What I most assuredly do not like is being lectured to over and over that a defined “sense of place” is the first and most important priority of any wine and that without it, a wine can be no more than what one staunchly sermonic wine writer calls a “reliable supermarket pick” at best.

The argument in this particular case goes that any wine priced at $35.00 or more is “meant to represent is origins”, but the mantra of “place above everything else” is commonplace these day and has for me become a soporific catechism akin to the political sloganeering of an election year. Once heard, it triggers an immediate response to ignore anything else that might follow. I know that I could be missing something worthwhile that someone might have to say, but the fight or flight reaction is real, and I am tired of fighting.

I wonder just how much “place” a wine must exhibit to be deemed worthy by those who so passionately champion its unambiguous worth. Must a wine speak to an individual vineyard, or is appellation, county or state (gasp!) enough? For a long time I was especially amused by the fresh-faced tyros who marched into the wine wars with terroir as their cross even though I was sure that they would not know “place” if it bit them in the butt. I did and still would like to see them put to the test in identifying place when blind tasting a selection of serious wines, but I would most like to see some tempering of their absolutist missionary zeal.

The concept of place matters only if the wines of that place are constant and recognizably specific in character, and, of course, that the wines as a group are good. Last night we tasted our ways through a number of newly released Cabernets, and, among them, the Ridge Montebello and those from Diamond Creek were not hard to spot, but it is simply impossible to quantify how much of their distinctiveness was due to place and how much to winemaking style. And, as in most vintages, we have tasted many deep and thoroughly delicious Cabernets that were just as good if far less precise in their statements of place.

Now, please, do not get me wrong; there are pieces of dirt here and there that leave an indelible and remarkably positive imprint on a wine, but I believe that there are winemakers that can do the same. Some claim that the land is the sole arbiter of quality in fine wine, but I have tasted too many disappointing wines of legendary provenance, and I hold that greatness is born only when vineyard and vintner find just the right fit.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
Good Wine News: A Welcome Change

Tue, 04 Sep 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

This year is different. Mother Nature is cooperating. The economy is cooperating. And wine country is full of smiling faces and optimism. What a change from the past couple of years in which nothing seemed to be going the way it was supposed to go.

Let’s talk about the harvest for a moment. It is not a new phenomenon—this sense of giddy anticipation that fills wine country at this time of year, but after a cool year in 2010 followed by a rainy, cool year in 2011, the winemakers can be excused for looking at this year’s crop as something of a gift from Bacchus. The old saw that every year is a vintage year under California’s sunny skies was never true, but it came close, as it did for the last decade in most wine areas in the world. But, then things changed.

Everyone had an explanation: El Niño, global warming gone bad (the interior heats up so the coast cools down), overplanting (that one never made much sense in these quarters), normal cyclical patterns returning after a long absence. Whatever your favorite among that panoply of potential truths and half-truths, the inhospitable weather of the past couple of years was piggybacked on top of an economy that had stubbornly refused to cooperate.

So, let’s assume that Mother Nature has returned to her senses. That might have still left the industry in shambles if wine sales had not also begun to pick up. Reports of sales increases of 5-8% across the country have lifted spirits and led to predictions that the wine glut of the past few years will soon become the wine desert as excess supply dries up in the face of burgeoning demand.

We have seen boom and bust cycles in wine before. It is the nature of almost any agricultural crop that some years produce excess and some years produce scarcity. The wine business is doubly cursed in that regard because it cannot respond quickly to changes in the supply/demand equation. Early optimism last Spring led to a shortage in rootstock as wineries began to sense that the world was changing. Yet even with plenty of rootstock next Spring, we all know that new plantings take years to come into full production.

The boom and bust cycle is moving towards boom, but supplies of wine will grow less rapidly than demand. And if there is a hint of a dark cloud in this scenario, it is the specter of rising wine prices as demand pulls them higher. That is a topic to be explored more fully in the coming weeks and months, yet we can tell you that we already see an upward drift in some places after years of relatively little change.

Perhaps the most interesting bit of good news in the wine biz is the rate at which winery investment has picked up. Reports on the actual rate of change will wait until next year when the economists have done their thing, but anecdotal evidence is everywhere. The wine news last week spoke of new investment at the original Buena Vista winery site, the emergence of a new and attractive facility (Reata) in the Jamison Canyon area of southeast Napa County, both large and small new wineries in Santa Barbara County (including the next year’s debut of the lavish Presqu’ Isle facility in the Solomon Hills area. In economist terms, new winery formation is what is called a lagging indicator. It tends to rise after demand has risen. Yet there it is, already on the march.

In the long run, all of this happiness at the industry level will result in good news for consumers. It is not that they or we will welcome rising prices. But from new plantings come new initiatives and new directions. From new wineries comes greater choice. And from a return of typical harvest weather comes a new supply of wine made in styles that are not antithetical as the wines of 2010 and 2011 have tended to be, to the joyful, tasty, characterful pattern that has made California wine into its own special and much admired product.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Finding The Best Buys In Cabernet Sauvignon

Fri, 31 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Labor Day has always struck me as the last stand of summer, and, while I am not quite ready to put the grill into storage, this weekend is a wistful reminder that the opportunities for cooking outside are fewer as the days become shorter. The menu at Chez Eliot this weekend centers on a rare Porterhouse and the wine will be Cabernet Sauvignon.

Good Cabernet rarely comes cheap, and there has been more than a bit of handwringing over the last several years at just expensive the best have become. I cannot say that I am thrilled at the prospect of spending more than $100 on a fine bottle to partner with this Monday’s meal, and, in truth, it is a rare treat, but I would not argue that those who have successfully created a following for their wines should altruistically charge less than the market will bear. The debate will go on as to whether or not high-ticket bottlings are really worth the price, but supply and demand are the ultimate arbiters of worth, and the value of any wine is determined by what the consumer is willing to pay.

Now for the good news. One of the great joys in doing what we do here at CONNOISSEURS’ GUIDE is the surprise that comes in finding wines of outstanding value, and I am happy to say that there is still plenty of well-made California Cabernet to be had without need of a second mortgage.

Listed below are six recent standouts that check in at $20.00 or less and, in most cases, are widely available in the market. They are all thoroughly enjoyable wines, and they will change the minds of those thrifty wine lovers who believe that good Cabernet is beyond their reach.

88 ANCIENT PEAKS Cabernet Sauvignon Paso Robles 2009 $17.00
It is increasingly difficult to find good Cabernet under $20.00, but this well-made bottling fills the bill. It leads with attractive aromas of ripe currants, cream and a hint of raspberry, and its nicely fruited flavors exhibit surprising richness and depth. It is finished with an edge of grippy tannins and gets a bit coarse as young Cabernet can, but its fruit stays the course, and it has the substance and depth to comfortably age for five or more years.

88 BENZIGER Cabernet Sauvignon Sonoma County 2008 $20.00
This wine is what widely available, moderately priced Cabernet should be all about. Its mid-volume aromas focus nicely on ripe cherries with intimations of currants and are supported by whiffs of oak and graphite. It is fairly supple and even a bit rounded at entry before youthful tannins firm it up in the late going. It does dry a touch in the finish, but service with grilled steaks or chops will overcome that minor concern. Its fair price adds to its charms.

87 RODNEY STRONG Cabernet Sauvignon Sonoma County 2009 $17.00
A little lighter and brighter than its higher-priced siblings but just right for its price, this direct, clean and decently fruited offering finds a touch of richness in a veneer of roasted vanilla oakiness. Medium-full in body, balanced and just tannic enough to live up to its varietal heritage, this one will make a fine mate to grilled steaks and burgers today and, even though it can age for a bit, does not require that you lay it away before pulling the cork.

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thorns
Gentlemen, Start Your Engines

Thu, 30 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

The harvest is fast upon us, the excitement in wine country is palpable.

Winemakers are among our occasional tasting-panel participants here at CGCW, and, while our invitees are never asked to taste and evaluate their own wines, we have always valued the insights and perspectives afforded by those who actually make the stuff. Two of them joined us for last night’s tasting of newly released Cabernet Sauvignons, and the topic of conversation inevitably turned to the 2012 vintage as soon as the evening’s work was done.

It was obvious that the winemaking duo both seemed a little more animate and in higher spirits than usual, and we asked if this was normal for them as harvest neared. After but the briefest pause for thought, they confessed that yes, this was without question the most exhilarating time of year, the season in which they truly earned their spurs. As important as a wine’s lengthy elevage might be, crush is the time during which everything seems a little more vivid and alive and exciting.

We noticed their buoyancy too, and it seemed to us that there were more smiles and unforced optimism this year than in the past two or three when talking about the impending harvest. We have seen and heard the same up and down the coast over the last couple of weeks, and, while there is potential for peril between now and when the last grapes are picked a couple of months hence, we have yet to hear a discouraging word.

Now, I admit that most every vintage hereabouts is touted as being a success by those who make wines, yet many of those who praised 2010 and 2011 with straight faces did so without real conviction, and we received too many candid reports that things in the vineyard were difficult at best.

Some have claimed that the cool 2010 and 2011 vintages were incontrovertible proof of climate change in California and that winemakers had best rethink the ways in which wine should be made. Some have gone so far as to praise those years as the dawn of a new golden age and piously scolded winemakers who still believed in ripe fruit and richness. When asked for their thoughts on such pronouncements, winemakers with whom we have spoken have for the most part offered a range of responses from rolled eyes and bemused smiles to downright disdain.

At this point, 2012 is by all accounts shaping up as a vintage in which winemakers can pick when they choose, practice their craft and do what they like rather than what nature absolutely demands, and, in that regard, I share in their infectious enthusiasm.

We have a ways to go, to be sure, but the race has begun and the start is a good one.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
Too Many Varieties in California?

Tue, 28 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Question: Why does the list of varieties and wine styles made in California keep expanding? Aren’t the two dozen grapes already here, many of which are not yet perfected, enough for every would-be vintner?

The simple answers: Because we are not Europe with its hidebound rules and because we can.

One of the ugly arguments in this year’s Presidential sweepstakes goes like this” “He does not understand what makes America unique”. It’s an easy and loaded argument in a political context, and I am about to bring it into the wine arena.

Why is it, I asked a winemaker recently, that you want to make strange and different wines that have no following here and occupy tiny niches in the world of wine. His answer: Because I can. Because here in California we can try anything that our imaginations let us imagine.

Now, I for one, do not really care if we make the several thousand varieties that exist in the world. I, for one, do not care if we grow every Sicilian and Greek and Romanian cultivar that we can find. I hope I am not becoming some kind of Luddite, but I wish we would get a few more of the noble and near noble varieties right before we run off and try to make everything else.

Please do not get me wrong. Anyone who wants to make those little known varieties should. That is where I and almost all Americans agree. We do try many things here because we can. I do belong to the “Let a thousand flowers bloom” league. If you are not harming the planet or your neighbors, go ahead.

Still, I do wish that more people would work on Grenache, Riesling, Chenin Blanc, Gewurztraminer, Nebbiolo, Tempranillo, Marsanne and Roussanne before they attempted to make Assyrtiko, Dornfelder and Touriga Nacional.

California can. I love those words. It is why I moved here several decades ago from New England. Nothing wrong with my home counties, but in California I found a spirit that transcended the known and was intrigued with the possible. I would find myself on the horns of the dilemma if I really wanted to climb up on my soap box and argue against new directions.

Instead, I will quietly say: Please don’t forget some of the old favorites in your rush to be new and different. Great wines from Riesling, Chenin Blanc, Tempranillo can be made in California. How do I know? Because we can.

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thorns
A Surprising Mistake By Kermit Lynch

Thu, 23 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I have always found wine videos to be god-awful boring. Sitting and actually watching someone talk about wine may be a good remedy for acute insomnia, but, with respect to things vinous, the monotony of the talking-head video format is generally about as exciting as watching paint dry. Rules, however, are made by exception, and a new series of video interviews hosted by Rajat Parr of Sandhi wines is well worth a look. *

Each of the first five episodes runs a very manageable ten to fifteen minutes in length and features smart and articulate people who have something to say. Brief visits with Ted Lemon of Littorai, Jim Clendenen of Au Bon Climat, Domaine Drouhin’s Veronique Drouhin and co-founder of Williams Selyem, Burt Willams have been recently augmented with a short interview with Kermit Lynch, and each provides the informed and interested viewer with real food for thought.

It is the latter that has set me to thinking over this morning’s coffee, specifically Kermit’s observation that Burgundy was a relative bargain these days when measured against the wines of Bordeaux and California. It was one of those comments with which I was quick to agree, but then on reflection began to wonder and felt the need for a little empirical support.

I helped pay the bills for graduate school by working at a remarkable wine shop called The Village Corner in Ann Arbor, Michigan back in the late 1970s, and I pulled out a copy of an old catalog and a few early copies of CGCW to get a feel for just how steep the rise in prices has been over the last 35 years.

It turns out the Kermit’s inklings were right as far as Bordeaux and Burgundy were concerned, and, excepting the likes of a handful of trophy wines such as those of Domaine Romanee Conti that are now out of the reach of all but the exceptionally wealthy, the prices for good Burgundy are far less inflationary than those of Bordeaux. A quick comparative look at California prices, however, brought a real and very much unexpected surprise.

Most sources indicate a basic cost-of-living increase in the United States of roughly four-hundred percent over the last 35 years. During that time, a brief look at Bordeaux prices found increases of twenty to seventy fold, and Burgundy increased on average some six to ten times. In the same span, however, a representative sample of premium California bottlings showed a comparatively modest average increase of five- to six-hundred percent and only a few rising as much as ten times.

Now, my cursory look at prices based on a small handful of samples is hardly scientific or conclusive, but if we can agree to ignore the largely unattainable “cult” efforts such as Screaming Eagle, Harlan and the like, it is hard not to come away with the feeling that fine California wine still comes out a winner as far as bang for the buck is concerned.

* http://sandhiwines.com/media/

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Wednesday Warblings
Can California Wine Survive Good Times?

Wed, 22 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I am beginning to doubt that California should be in the wine business. I see the proof everyday in headlines that scream thoughts like, “Russian River Pinot is coarse and too ripe”, “Sonoma Coast Pinot is too inconsistent to be trusted”, “Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon is making a mockery of itself”, “the prevailing style of Chardonnay is silly”.

Anyone who reads those headlines, and, folks, they have appeared in important journals of late, would have to conclude that California’s only hope is to pull all the grapes and plant a bunch of unheard of varieties whose main characteristic is high acidity.

The wineries hear that kind of talk as well. And they are fighting mad. And they don’t mind telling us that they are. We have heard criticism of the “woe is me” crowd in all parts of the wine country. But what we don’t hear or see is the wineries fighting back publicly. Now, maybe they don’t have to fight back because they are selling a lot of wine and their sales numbers are rebounding wonderfully.

Maybe they don’t have to fight back because the best way to treat the little children trampling on their lawns is to ignore them because the wineries are going to last a lot longer than the naysayers. Maybe they do not have to fight back because they know that Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Cabernet Sauvignon are going to keep selling like hot cakes because those are not only the leading varieties here in the U. S. but are also the gold standard around the world.

I prefer to think that the industry does not feel the need to fight back against poorly conceived journalism because they know in their bones that the major grapes make great wine and that the varieties that have not made great wine historically have been pushed to the sidelines for a reason.

Experimentation will not stop, and arguments in favor of new favorites will continue to be heard. That is all well and good and as it should be. But arguments that foresee some of those lesser grapes as the future of the industry just do not ring true. At best, some other grape or grapes will join in the party. There is nothing on the horizon, however, that is going to become the party.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Change in Wine Country: Evolution or War?

Mon, 20 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Those of us in the business and enthusiasts who spend a great deal of time drinking and talking about wine us are keenly aware of the mudslinging that seems to define the hot-button topics of the day from scoring to alcohol levels, from winemaking technique to grape-growing practice, and lately, to what constitutes a good wine list.

Earlier this week, Blake Gray posted the first part of a worth-reading interview1 with New York Time’s wine editor, Eric Asimov, in which Mr. Asimov commented on his distaste for what he referred as the “culture wars” that seem to be the catalyst for a large share of the discussion on wine these days. While we all may have different ideas about what the term “culture wars” might mean, there has been a real choosing of sides with the unbudging mentality of trench warfare where the lines are static and the barricades just keep getting higher, and there is more than enough vitriol to go around.

It is hard to escape even for those who, like Asimov, recognize the problem, and there are too many that seem to revel in the limelight of leading the way to a new truth.

Asimov sees the clash as being between the old and the new, a generational gulf between out-moded twentieth-century connoisseurship and a new way of looking at wines. Some have gone so far as labeling it a conflict between “wine liberals” and “wine conservatives”, that latter of which have been likened to old men yelling at the kids to get off of their lawns. For the life of me, I cannot grasp the need for or the value for this kind of absolute, bi-polar thinking. I can no more imagine staying mired in the past than I can abandoning everything that we have learned to this point, and the true believers who preach that we have gone so horribly wrong strike me being as ignorant as they are arrogant.

The need for new is a must if we expect the culture of wine to grow and remain ever involving. By the same token, “new” should not be seen as having value in and of itself and most certainly cannot be praised as being inherently better simply because it is new. I believe that great wines did, do and will exist outside the whims of fashion. I find great comfort in opening a familiar bottle that has over the years been a favorite, but I find real excitement in the hunt for and discovery of a new wine of real quality that has something all of its own to say.

For me, it’s all about evolution, not revolution. The craft and culture of fine wine is a continuum, one that has been millennia in the making. There have always been choices and there are more today than ever. I worry that we are losing sight of the big picture, of the marvelous diversity and extraordinary range of wine from which to choose. Some I will like and some I will not, but I will let each wine say what it will be it esoteric and obscure or made in style meant to appeal to the very broad public market, and I do not give a damn about anything other than it being interesting, delicious and well-made.

I find this “wars” to be pretty silly, and the puffed-up sense of importance on the part of those leading this or that charge as to be downright comical at times. I would laugh except I too often get the feeling that I am being insulted.

“Balance” has become a word that all sides revere even if defining it can be a bit thorny at times. It is time for much ballyhooed balance to return to the discussion, and we will all be better off when it does.

1 http://blog.wblakegray.com/2012/08/eric-asimov-q-part-one.html

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Thursday Thorns
The Idea Behind the Legal Naming of Various Wine

Thu, 16 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

The idea behind the legal naming of various wine-growing regions or appellations (AVAs) is that, when it comes to making fine wines, place matters. Of course, no serious student of wine would argue the point, but the way in which the system actually works is, with some justification, regular fodder for debate. There are those that whine that the system has no legitimacy whatsoever, and that is simply going too far. We disagree, but we also admit to being occasionally baffled at how this or that AVA came to be, and find such appellations as San Francisco Bay, Sonoma Coast, Napa Valley and the like to be so general as to muddle their meanings in terms of wine character at the least and to be without any value at all in the worst cases.

Sometimes, however, the identification of appellation makes perfect sense, and the point was driven home dramatically last week during our wanderings through the wine districts of Santa Barbara County.

Among the many lessons learned on our visit, and we will have more to say later, was just how unique and distinctively different are the several AVAs of Santa Barbara. It is one thing for us to work our ways through various samples here at out tasting table, but it is another thing altogether to stand in the vineyards themselves and feel all the parts fall into place as an appellation makes its indelible mark.

It would be wise to remember three, and soon to be four, important names from the county, and to say that they produce wines that can stand with the best in the State is not hyperbole.

The best known and that with the longest history is the AVA of Santa Maria Valley, a west-to-east transverse valley (open to the coast) of some 7500 planted acres running near Santa Barbara County’s northern edge. First and very vigorously championed by the Miller family who own and farm the much-acclaimed Bien Niacido Vineyard, Santa Maria Valley has carved out a deserved niche as one of California’s premier Chardonnay and Pinot Noir sites and is the home to both significant, well-established vintners and more than a few fresh new faces of exciting potential.

Further south and much nearer to the coastlines, the Santa Rita Hills (Sta. Rita Hills) AVA is a comparative newcomer having been approved in 2001, some twenty years after the Santa Maria Valley earned its AVA status. It is also part of an unusual, for California, transverse valley and generally speaking, a very cool wine-growing district. We were struck by the vibrant, yet wonderfully integral, acidity that marked so many of its wines. We expect that Chardonnay and Pinot Noir will again pay most of the bills here, but there are more than few winemakers here willing to step outside of the conventional lines with small lots of Syrah, Grenache and especially good Viognier.

Newer yet, and “officially” established in 2009, the eastward lying Happy Canyon AVA is as different from Santa Maria Valley and the Santa Rita Hills as different can get. Quite a bit warmer and occasionally blisteringly hot as it was during our recent visit, it succeeds by dint of its dramatic diurnal temperate swings and is showing remarkable success with Sauvignon Blanc and the red Bordelaise grapes with Syrah getting a long and serious look in the vineyard.

The next name of significance hereabouts is sure to be Ballard Canyon, and its supporters have petitioned for AVA recognition with expectations for approval in the near future. It, too, is on the warm side, warm enough to rule out Chardonnay and Pinot, but some of the finest Syrahs we have tasted of late call Ballad Canyon home. White Rhône bottlings, while far from plentiful are promising, and we see very good Grenache on the horizon.

Before we leave this topic, however, we do need to note that Santa Barbara’s Santa Ynez Valley AVA is far broader in its inclusion of varied conditions and is thus a less reliable predictor of wine character.

What these other places prove, however, is that the system of defining AVAS need not be so hopelessly political that vaunted names like Napa Valley and Russian River Valley can cover exceptionally cool lands like Carneros and Green Valley yet can also include quite warm places like Pope Valley and Chalk Hill within their boundaries. In Santa Barbara County, most of the AVAs make sense as a way of informing consumers what to expect for a majority of bottlings.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
The Great New York Food (and Wine) Fight

Tue, 14 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

The answer to the following question will tell us which side of the fight you are on. Do you want your fish tacos accompanied by a big-distributor Sauvignon Blanc or by an oxidized, orange-colored white wine from someone in a remote corner of Italy?

Okay, I exaggerate—but only a little. Obviously, there is a lot of territory in the middle, but sometimes in this food and wine fight, being fought today in New York, but also being brought to you by the San Francisco Chronicle, you would not think that there was any middle ground.

Aside from inane comments about “big distributor crap”, as if that were the only alternative to Ribolla Gialla and Assyrtiko, a topic previous addressed in this space, here is how the “discussion” was, in significant part, characterized in the New York Times. It came in the form of a multiple choice question so pay attention.

“You look at the wine list, dozens of choices all consistent with the restaurant’s ethnicity. Not one bottle seems familiar. What do you do?

A) Close your eyes, point randomly to a bottle and order it.

B) Throw up your hands and order a beer (assuming you recognize any of those choices).

C) Ask for advice from the sommelier or a server familiar with the list.

D) Rant about pretentious sommeliers who create lists of esoteric wines under the deluded notion that their mission is to educate customers. Dummies!

To be fair, the NYT writer did qualify the question with his reference to the restaurant’s ethnicity, but the other side of the argument is that a French restaurant with unrecognizable choices had also offended the writer for the NY Post, who initiated the discussion with his editorial about wine lists in which the customers are left guessing in the dark.

The problem that I have with both sides in this discussion comes down to two basic facts. Restaurants, no matter what their menus offer, are free to have wine lists of any shape and form of their choosing. They are businesses, after all, and will rise or fall based on how the customers react. And conversely, there are too many restaurants that make a penchant out of ignoring their customers just for the sake of being different.

There is another alternative to the potential answers above, and full props to the NYT writer for pointing it out, “If a restaurant (wine list) is so unorthodox that you feel discomfited, plenty of more conventional choices beckon”.

Good advice, perhaps, but ask yourself this. Does the choice have to be between wines you have never heard of and that are essentially the province of the wine geeks among us or “big distributor crap”. I personally do not like those choices, especially in restaurants in which the food is not nearly so narrowly or esoterically focused as the wine list.

A couple of brief examples will suffice. Last week, Steve Eliot and I visited with a number of winemakers down in Santa Barbara County. Among the wines we liked was a limited edition Sauvignon Blanc under the winemaker name, Storm. It is one of those “geeks know it” wines, but its appearance on a wine list with other choices would not ever be out of order. Yet, why not also offer a Merry Edwards or Spottswoode or Quivira Fig Tree Sauvignon Blanc. None of that trio is “crap”, and, in fact, each is pretty good, yet they would never appear on wine lists if some of the advice-givers had their ways.

A second thought. Here in the sleepy S. F. suburb of Alameda (home to many very good “urban” wineries by the way), there is an Italian restaurant that the Olkens like a lot named C’era Una Volta. It is a perfectly fine neighborhood restaurant run by Rudy, who is from Tuscany, cooks what he learned there and has a wine list that is all Italian. I get why there are no California wines on his list just as I get why there are no wines except Greek on the lists of some Greek restaurants. But restaurants that have wide-ranging menus and proudly proclaim the locavore nature of their food are sticking their fingers in our eyes when they try to tell us, as some have done, that there are no California wines that go with their cuisine.

The bottom line for me then is this. Restaurants should do whatever it is they want. Diversity is wonderful in food and in wine. But, when a restaurant sticks its figurative finger in the customer’s eye with comments like “we don’t let the customer dictate the wine list” as an excuse for a pages of unrecognizable wines and “we offer only the freshest locally grown products, but we do not have California wine on the list” and there is no apparent reason why not, then I think I will take the NYT advice and not go there.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Wanderings
The Best Vineyard You Probably Take For Granted

Wed, 08 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Perhaps because the most expensive wines come from vineyards like Hyde, Hudson, To Kalon, Rochioli, the wine world forgets about the Bien Nacido Vineyard in the Santa Maria Valley.

We have not, but we probably have taken it for granted because it appears on label after label after label. In fact, some thirty to forty wineries produce wines from Bien Nacido and, at last count, the vineyardists believe that there are ninety or more individual vineyard-designated wines from this Santa Maria Valley property.

Started back in 1973 by the Miller family, then Central Valley agriculturalists, Bien Nacido developed first on the flatter portions of the property. The mesa, with its upward tilted land became home to vineyard blocks that have been in use for vineyard designates while the adjoining flat river bottom land has produced grapes for wines that are appellation designates.

With so many wineries using its grapes, the vineyard was expanded into increasing higher locations that are both harder to farm and produce lower yields. Many of them are dedicated to individual wineries and have been since their first planting. In fact, while we may have taken Bien Nacido for granted, the wineries have placed long term bets on Bien Nacido. Yields are small, farming is hard and prices of vineyard-designates are often high.

In our tastings today, we have seen an array of wines from lower alcohol editions produced by some of the newest and youngest members of the winemaking fraternity to highly ripened wines produced from low-yielding vines that are intentionally stressed to increase their intensity.

This kind of range would not be possible if the site were not so good, if the viticultural practices were not impeccable and if the grapes did not ripen with such generous acidities and low pHs. The combination brings wineries clamoring for Bien Nacido grapes and producing a long list of wines with the Bien Nacido name prominently displayed on the label. Perhaps it is time for the wine world to stop taking the vineyard for granted.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
On The Road Again

Mon, 06 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I wish I could say that I was going in search of truffles because it might be fun to write Connoisseurs’ Guide to California Truffles. On the other hand, maybe I am lucky that wine came first because California truffles are still pretty rare.

As you read this, Steve Eliot and I are motoring south to Santa Barbara County where wine grapes were almost as rare as truffles back in the days when we started Connoisseur’s Guide. A quick peak at the Grape Acreage Report for 1974, the year in which CGCW first saw the light of day, show only 1,000 bearing acres. That figure has grown to some 17,000 today.

It was not so long ago that I was writing a twice-monthly column for the Los Angeles Times by the title, Tasting Notes, and in which an introductory text and a few cherry-picked CGCW recommendations were offered.

In one of those columns, I offered the opinion that Santa Barbara County Syrah was quickly approaching the quality level of the local Pinot Noir and might soon surpass it. That column turned out to be one of the most popular during its several year run. It has also turned out to be somewhat premature, both because Syrah did not seem to continue its growth in quality and Pinot Noir did.

But that was some years ago, and Steve and I are on our ways south to see how things stand today. It is not that we have ignored Santa Barbara County wines over the last decade, but rather that things keep changing there just as they have done here. We will be looking for and expect to find a much keener eye on the parts of the local vintners as to where they want each of their varieties to grow. And we will visit, for the first time, the new Happy Canyon AVA where Bordeaux varieties have shown remarkable success. There are plenty of places in California where Cabernet and its siblings grow well. There are, however, very few where they achieve brilliant success. It is time to see more of Happy Canyon.

We will have a couple of interim reports during the week, but like all things in Connoisseurs’ Guide, it will be in the wine reviews that the story will ultimately be told. Stay tuned.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Riesling: Still Waiting in the Wings?

Fri, 03 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

There are a good many people who passionately hold fast to the belief that Riesling is responsible for the world’s greatest white wine. There are days when I am much inclined to agree.

I recall that Riesling was the first “serious” wine that I ever bought. After graduating from jugs of Hearty Burgundy to the likes of Mateus and Lancer’s Rose and inexpensive Beaujolais and Macon Blancs in my long-ago college years, I remember heeding the advice of a local wine merchant near campus and took home a 1971 Wehlener Sonnenuhr Spätlese from J. J. Prüm. Most of us who have set aside common sense and made wine a profession have a bottle or two the indelible memories of which remain almost electric and undiminished through the years. For many of us, they were those catalysts of change, the shiny objects which lead us astray, and Herr Prüm’s remarkable Mosel was one of mine.

Oh, the passion for Bordeaux and Burgundy would come, and California’s miracle decade of the 1970s brought new can’t-live-without favorites that ate up the little disposable income I had at the time, but top-flight Riesling from the finest estates still entertains, informs and involves as only truly great wine can. I enjoyed it while a wide-eyed, eager-to-learn tyro, and it still shows me new things today.

Several years back, it seemed that we were on the verge of a new era in New World winemaking. A Riesling “Renaissance”, as it was called, appeared to be in the making, but now I am not so sure. There is no question that there are more fine North American Rieslings to be had than ever before, and some such as the Eroica and Poet’s Leap bottlings from Columbia Valley are world-class efforts by any standard. Still, despite the best and often impressive efforts of Washington, Oregon, California, Michigan and New York, real excitement for Riesling has failed to materialize in the broad marketplace.

The simple charms of sweet and fizzy Moscatos have captured the fancies of younger wine drinkers, and the adventurous fringe in search of the next new thing in white wines have ignored Riesling in favor of esoteric varietals ranging from Grüner Veltliner and Verdelho to Ribolla Gialla and Assyrtiko. I cannot help but think that Riesling has gotten lost in the shuffle.

During the some twenty-odd years I taught the wine classes at the California Culinary Academy, my lectures and tastings of Riesling were among the most universally popular, and, while I would like to take some of the credit, I know full well that it was not me but the wine that got my students excited. I recall more than once hearing the comment from even those well-versed in the culinary arts that they simply did not know what they had been missing. I wonder if there are not legions of wine-drinkers out there who might now say the same.

I would not make the claim that North American Riesling is the absolute equal of the best to found from the Mosel and Rhein. We have some way to go. I am, however, still hopeful that its fifteen-minutes of fame and interest have not passed and that it will not go back to being the underappreciated wine that it was for so many years. It will take the right people and the right places to make it all that it can be, but, then, look what happened to West Coast Pinot Noir!

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Wanderings
Put a Cork in It!

Wed, 01 Aug 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I confess that I have never been a fan of the screwcap, aka Stelvin, closures that have become so prevalent over the last half-dozen or so years. I appreciate that they afforded a needed alternative to cork when problems with TCA became epidemic, but, even then, I never quite trusted the plastic-lined, thin-metal screwcaps. I could reluctantly accept them as being superior to plastic “corks” that failed to seal completely or, even worse, imparted a sickly sweet quality to the wine, but I missed the familiar and ritual “pop” of a real cork that announced that something good was imminent.

I wondered early on about long-term viability and just how wines would hold up when bottled under anything but cork, and, while I readily defended them as entirely reasonable closures for inexpensive wines meant to be drunk within a year or two of vintage, it did not take too long to see that there was a significantly higher number of wines bottled under screwcaps that showed problems with excessive sulfites and reduction. I figured a little forgiveness was deserved in the first years as “new” always comes with its own set of lessons to be learned, but screwcaps are not new, and our recent tastings of new Sauvignon Blancs and Rieslings have seen far too many chemically-challenged wines bottled under screwcaps. There have been enough, in fact, that I find myself feeling a little skeptical at the very sight of them now.

I am aware that their champions are armed with science and statistics that tout their benefits, and I know that the matchsticky intrusions of sulphur dioxide are to be blamed on winemakers and not the screwcap itself. Still, experience is the best teacher of all, and my trepidations are not born out of thin air.

It seems that I am not alone in my unease with screw caps, and last week yet another important Australian producer announced that they would be abandoning screwcap closures in favor of cork. Rusden Wines has joined other producers from down under in embracing cork as the best way to go for reasons having to do entirely with technical performance. They are not the first, and I am certain that they will not be the last.

Screwcaps are cheaper: I get that, but they are not better, and I have come to believe that they are not as good as real cork. They are not defensible with respect to performance, sustainability or recycling. I expect that they are here to stay given their very low cost, but until circumstances appreciably change, I am more than willing to spend a few extra pennies to hear the comforting sound of a real cork being pulled from the bottle.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Everybody Loves A Bargain—Especially When It Tastes Good

Fri, 27 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot and Charles Olken

Yesterday, we tasted it. Last night we drank it. Today we are going to buy it, because the Rock Wall Winery has just put our new favorite Rosé on sale for the weekend. We will be on our way out of town and are stopping by to pick some up. By tomorrow, we’ll be sitting in the shade, looking at the mountains and sipping Rock Wall Grenache Rosé 2011.

This lovely wine that showed so well in our tastings yesterday morning was, later that day, touted by the winery as the perfect reason to visit them over the weekend. It is a new release, listed at $18.00, on sale for $10.

Here’s the long version of the story. We spent yesterday morning tasting our ways through a couple of dozen new California Rosés. One of our favorite wines of the day was the 2011 “Uncle Roget’s Grenache Rosé” produced by Rock Wall Wine Company located in Alameda but a stone’s throw from the door of CGCW. A few years back, longtime friend and local winemaking legend Kent Rosenblum and family sold the wildly successful, eponymously named Rosenblum Cellars to the big conglomerate, Diageo, and decided to start out anew with Rock Wall. Very much in its adolescence, and arguably still refining its approach and settling on a distinctive and consistent winemaking voice, Rock Wall is rife with promise and hits the occasional home run as it, in fact, did with its downright delicious Rosé.

It turns out the Uncle Roget is none other than Roger Rosenblum, brother to Kent and uncle to winemaker Shauna Rosenblum, Kent’s daughter. As the story goes, Uncle Roget likes Rosé and, in honor of his many years as winery part-owner, all-around good guy and uncle, he now has a wine named after him. It is made from grapes grown near Davis in Yolo County and is a bright and vibrant, bone-dry bottling comprised entirely of Grenache. It smacks of fresh berries and sports the brisk balance of a wine equally well-suited to service with a wide range of foods or simple quaffing as a warm-weather refresher.

We happen to like a good Rosé throughout the year and would encourage wine lovers to think beyond the seasonal limits set by most commentaries about it. Yet as our chosen weekend tipple shows, we have to admit that this one is just the thing to slake a summer’s day thirst while admiring Lake Tahoe—or even the backyard patio.

And here is why timing is everything, where opportunity knocks, why you have to make hay while the sun shines. Yesterday afternoon, in the midst of the usual deluge of e-mails, came this timely missive with the headline, “A Beautiful Day for Rosé”. It was must reading for its topicality, and as It turns out, “Uncle Roget’s Rosé”, the very wine we had corked up after the tasting and put in the fridge to accompany last night’s burgers and Bruce Addell’s Chicken-Apple sausage, was the same wine featured as Rock Wall’s weekend special, available for online or tasting-room purchase for only $10.00. 1

And, that, dear readers, is why we cannot wait for another month before telling about this wine that will be enthusiastically reviewed in our September Issue. This, quite simply, is the kind of bargain that does not come along every day, and it gets an enthusiastic thumbs-up vote in these quarters.

1 http://www.rockwallwines.com/2011Rose

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thorns
The OMG Set Likes What? Not So Fast, Please

Thu, 26 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Let me be honest. I like something different perhaps even more than the next guy. I have been writing about wine nigh on to forever, and one of great sources of excitement over those years has been seeing how things have changed, grown, gotten better, gotten worse. Never a dull moment.

No need to chronicle all that I have seen over those many years. We have all lived it together, and you all, or most of you anyhow, know what I am talking about. Sure, that are some Millenials out there who have never tasted an old and wonderful mature Cabernet or had a whiff of a great dry Chenin Blanc, but even most of the young folks I see in wine stores are growing their palates the same way I did. Taste, taste and taste. Keep creating tasting memories and points of focus, learn by doing, learn by reading, learn by listening, but mostly learn by tasting.

Now comes a report from Snooth that suggests the OMG set are barking up all kinds of strange trees. I don’t get it. Sure there are folks who like new varieties and new approaches. I find those folks all over the place, and most of them are not Millenials. One of the hot trends in wine, if you listen to those who like to make you think that they speak for the OMG set is “orange wines”. The way to make an orange wine is not to ferment orange juice, but to oxidize the daylights of a new wine until its color turns orangy, which is preciously close to brown except that the wine is still young and thus also has some golden highlights—hence “orange” for lack of a better descriptor.

The fact of the matter is that the OMG set does not like orange wine because it has never experience the wines of Radikon or Cornelissen or any of the other naturalists. Those wines are so rare that only a handful of insider geeks have ever even tasted them. Some of them are pretty interesting; some are not. This is not an attack on orange wine.

Rather, it is a challenge to those who say that wines like the most obscure and wide of traditional limits are the future of the wine biz or even the darlings of the OMG set to prove it. Everyone should like what they like, but let’s stop pretending that difference for difference’ sake is a wave of anything but comments on the willingness of those of us at the heart of the biz to keep expanding our universe to like some of those expansions. The next time one of my Chardonnay-swilling neighbors tell me how much they like wines that only the geeks have heard of will be the first. I am not holding my breath waiting.

And neither do I expect to hear those words from my overeducated, upwardly mobile children or from their overeducated upwardly mobile friends. Let them drink my Chards and Cabs, my Pinots and Zins. It’s a good thing I have a pretty supply of those staples because that is what they and their increasing disposable incomes are drinking.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Wanderings
Syrah—Not Going Over the Cliff

Wed, 25 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

The state and future of Rhône varietals in California is once again in the news. Several weeks back, we wondered aloud in this column as to where local Syrah and its mates might be headed, and the questions was raised again this week in a like-minded piece penned by Patrick Comiskey for the San Francisco Chronicle.

The topic of Syrah’s seeming stagnation and less-than-robust place in the market, of course, is not at all new, and, for several years now, it has been claimed by many that Syrah has failed to win the hearts and minds of the consumer owing to California’s inability to define a singular Syrah style. This, in fact, is the most-often cited reason for Syrah’s sputtering of late, but is it true? Should California pursue a specific and singular Syrah style? Is that the answer? Is it even possible?

I would answer “no” to every one of those questions, and would instead suggest that such parochial thinking comes with dangers and pitfalls aplenty.

California is a very big place with world-class vineyards running from Mendocino to Temecula, a distance greater than that from Vouvray to Veneto. The assumption of a “one style fits all” mentality for such far-flung districts defies the very ideas of terroir and sense of place. It might be easy, as Syrah’s local critics like to do, to point to a French style, but would there be such a thing if Syrah were grown not just in the Rhône but in Bordeaux, Burgundy and Alsace as well? I very much doubt it.

If California Syrah shows many faces, and I agree with those who believe that it does, it will take time for its makers to discover just which face looks best in each place. It just may be that its seemingly chameleon-like nature, while causing a bit of confusion now, is also the key to a very interesting future. We have already seen the heights that Syrah can reach in the hands of such notable producers as DuMol, Terre Rouge, the Ojai Vineyard and JC Cellars, to name but a few, and I expect to see many more outstanding examples as more winemakers come to master the mysteries of grape and place.

There is a constant, if hopefully inconsequential, drone from a whining few who decry the California winemaking style as inherently flawed regardless of grape or place, and they are quick to provide saving solutions to a problem that arguably does not really exist by celebrating esoteric varietals and radically different approaches to viticulture and viniculture. Think concrete eggs, “orange” wine, Ribolla Gialla and the contest to see just how low you can go with respect to alcohol. While there absolutely must always be innovation and new ideas and the excitement of a next generation driving us forward, there is also something to be said for the wisdom of practice and time. I simply cannot agree with those who preach that California Syrah has had its day and who would summarily abandon it after but one generation as they head off on a crusade for the next big thing.

A singular California style? Nope, I do not see it in the cards, but I do anticipate that we will become comfortable with the concept of regional distinction and difference. But, it will take time for those distinctions to become predictably clear. We Americans tend to be an impatient lot, and if there is anything we can learn from Old World winemaking, it is patience.

Yes, local Syrah is suffering some growing pains just now, but it is far from dead.

Tuesday Tributes
Zinfandel Is Changing—Perhaps

Tue, 24 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

It is a struggle between old and new, between young and wizened, between those who believe that a wine’s first obligation is to be lower in alcohol than it is today and those who like the depth, richness and expressiveness of riper wines.

The most obvious battlegrounds for this drama are occurring in Chardonnay (see yesterday’s blog for a report) and Cabernet Sauvignon. No one is disputing the notion that a very high percentage of those wines are riper in flavor and higher in alcohol than they were twenty to forty years ago. The famous wines of the 1970s, upon which the California wine boom of that decade was built, seemed, for the most part, to be under 14% and they were all pretty tasty. Admittedly, Zinfandel could be riper than most other grapes and fair number of wines were routinely zooming past 14% by mid-decade and beyond.

Aside from the very late harvest bottlings in the 17% range, one could find few complaints about excess ripeness in those days. It was not until later that we and others began to worry—and worry we did. But, as Kent Rosenblum proclaimed so correctly, “Increased ripeness brings increased intensity, and I like that, and so do my customers”. He might have added, and we can because we have tasted almost all of his wines from that era, that it was the fruit and not the ripeness that was central to the wines’ characters.

Today, our tastings of Zinfandel are showing the influence of the latest consumer sentiments for fruit and enhanced balance instead of ripeness. We see it two ways. The first is the gradual increase in the recommendable Zinfandels with alcohols below 14%. That change is undeniable, but it is also something of a drop in the bucket in comparison the alcohol in most Zinfandels before increased ripeness became the order of the day.

The second movement, comes in two parts, and it is this movement that is shaping Zinfandel as we know it far more than any drift into under 14% Zinfandel. The combination of somewhat moderated alcohols, but still above 14%, and the accompanying increases in balancing acidity are resulting in deep but somewhat lighter wines whose uses with food are that much more enhanced. And for our money here at Connoisseurs’ Guide, it is the rise in acidity and the concomitant lowering of pH in Zinfandel that is the more significant trend.

I said in the title that Zinfandel is changing—perhaps. It will take some years of more regular harvests before we can separate observable fact into trend or weather. Zinfandel is changing. Some makers will likely try to keep their alcohol levels down. The question is whether they can outpace Mother Nature and the return of sunshine to wine country.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
The Chardonnay Wars—A Frontline Report

Mon, 23 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I have never wanted to be a war correspondent, but I inadvertently blundered behind the other side’s lines in the Chardonnay Wars.

The shock troops were everywhere, and their long knives were out. Ostensibly, they had gathered to celebrate their love of some not-so-well known white varieties, but they could hardly get a word out of their mouths without casting some slur, directly or indirectly, at Chardonnay.

Here are just a few of the unforgettable phrases.

• “In my restaurant, people are tired of Chardonnay and are looking for something new”.
• “I am happy to present my new wine tonight. Can you believe that is it is just 10.9% alcohol?”
• “Look at the orange color on this baby. Try doing that with your Chardonnay”.

I had come to the party to join in the fun of tasting something new. It was clear from the outset that there was not going to be anything like Chardonnay on the menu, and that was just fine with me. People do not live on Chardonnay alone. So, all well and good—until I set foot down on the ground and discovered that large parts of people’s attention were not being directed at varieties new to California but to Chardonnay.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the Forum. Instead of coming to bury Caesar, I ran into a variety of folks who quietly disagreed with that Caesar was dead and decided to praise him instead. It started when one of Connoisseurs’ Guide’s long-time friends came up to us at the event and said, “You know, I am beginning to drink Chardonnay again”.

Not long after that, I discovered myself next to a man whose vineyard has yielded some of the best wines in California. He was there because he had decided that parts of his vineyard were better suited to making a lighter white wine. He was not there to bury Chardonnay either. He makes full-throttle, albeit very balanced, Chardonnay. He thinks Chardonnay is just fine, and while he has become part of the search for lighter, brighter, brisker whites, he sees no reason why the increase in those types of wines should do anything but make wine drinking more exciting. I asked him if he felt like a subversive element in the midst of this Anything But Chardonnay war party, and he just smiled.

I rather enjoyed the event once I realized that I was not going to be lynched for holding heretical views. It is true that some of the practitioners of the “new grapes” would view me as misguided, and, frankly, that was how I was beginning to view many of them for their surprisingly narrow views of the world.

As I was taking my leave, one of the most widely known “new” winemakers came up to say goodnight. I had met him earlier at another of these “new” wine events and had soon realized that he was not “anti” anything but in favor of “letting a thousand flowers” grow. So, I put the question to him, “Why is so much of the rhetoric, and energy, here directed at Chardonnay?”

His answer sent me on my way back home full of smiles because I knew then that the other side was not going to win the war. Said he, “ Charlie, I don’t understand it. I love a good, rich Chardonnay”.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
When Wine Tasting Becomes Hard Work

Wed, 18 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Don’t get me wrong. I am not unappreciative about the job that I have. I get paid to taste wine.

I mean, really, getting paid to taste bottle after bottle of wine and tell people what I think? Is that work? There are far worse things one can do to make a living. There are times, however, and I know that everyone in this industry knows just what I mean, that the business of tasting wine can become one of real work.

The funny thing is that the really wearing times are not those when inexpensive, lesser quality stuff is on the table. No, while fatigue and an unfocused mind might randomly arrive any day, they more often come on the heels of more serious flights of wines, especially when multiple bottlings from the same producer are the docket. And, it is not always the bigger, most tannic wines that take the biggest toll.

I confess to feeling surprisingly spent after working my way through one after another Pinot Noir made by the same winery but from different vineyard sites, and, with every new vintage, it seems that the number of these multiple vineyard bottling expands.

Both I and our readers have commented on Pinot’s predilections to reflect specific terroir more than most of its red cousins. While the debate goes on, and the question is far from answered, I do think the perception is generally shared by a good many wine lovers and explains, at least to some extent, why so many producers feel the need to keep separate so many different vineyard lots. Maybe Pinot does allow the land to speak in clearer tones than other varietals; maybe it is because we still defer to the authority of France when it comes to things vinous and seek validation in mimicking Burgundy. For whatever the reasons, one thing is clear, there are more Pinot producers making more single-vineyard bottlings than ever before.

Now, sometimes there are profound differences from one such lot to another, such as when one producer crafts individual Pinots from the Sonoma Coast, the Santa Maria Valley and the Santa Lucia Highlands, but, more often than not, the differences are small and take a keen eye to see. We have often said that studied wine connoisseurship is, in fact, a world of small differences. It is that world, I think, that invites criticisms of wine snobbery and such, but those differences are no less real because they take concentration and effort to find.

It is fair enough question to ask, just how much joy can such wines really afford if they take so much work to really understand. After a long evening of tasting our ways through more than a few new Pinots, I must admit to some sympathy this morning for those who would ask. The thing is, however, really good Pinot Noir satisfies my fascination for nuance like no other red wine, and what was work at the tasting table will become pure pleasure at dinner.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
Please Excuse The Heresy--But Some Wines Are Simply Better

Tue, 17 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Wine appreciation is a personal thing. I understand that. One’s particular palate or taste has a lot to do with enjoyment of this or that bottle, and you and I may not agree as to a preferred grape or style. That’s okay. Still, I do get tired of the endless defense of know-nothing subjectivism and claims that cheap wines are every bit as good as those generally more expensive bottlings held in such high regard by those who pay attention to such things.

I fully admit that I have more than once enjoyed a simple, comparatively inexpensive wine at the right time and in the right setting as much as I have some of the high-ticket classics, yet while quality is not absolute, I do believe that some wines have more of the stuff than others. It seems, however, that there are those that do not agree.

The latest is Katie Kelly Bell, a food and wine contributor to Forbes.com, who questions the validity of the notion of “quality” and seems to come to the multiple conclusions of no, yes, maybe and its really doesn’t matter anyway. While her article is titled “Is There Really a Taste Difference Between Cheap and Expensive Wines” 1, it is not really about cheap vs. expensive but is instead one more feel-good accession to lowest common-denominator populism that sanctifies the eye of the beholder as the single source of vinous truth.

Now, there are folks who have made a mountain of money selling cheap wines, and I can understand why those in the trade might preach that there is no wine is worth more than $10.00 if they are making a good profit off the $5.00 one they are trying to get me to buy. I can understand a certain frustration and even simmering jealously on the part of those whose budgets do not allow access to pricier wines, and I get it that there are curmudgeonly people with axes to grind whose sole reason for existence is to complain. I do not get it, however, when supposedly saavy, wine-educated people start making the same claim, and I am left wondering what gives.

You might believe that Charles Shaw Cabernet Sauvignon is as good as Chappellet’s Pritchard hill bottling, but, I am sorry, you would be wrong. I would not look down my nose at you or hold you up to public ridicule, but I sure won’t be opening the good stuff should you show up at my place for dinner. In fact, you just made my life easier when it comes to picking out your Christmas present. Yes, drink what you like, but do not tell me that there is nothing to the notion of real quality and that I have been deluding myself for all these years.

Of course you should drink what makes you happy, I would never argue with that, but the idea that are just so damn many variables that ultimately one wine is just as good as another and that real quality is pure chimera is one that I simply cannot embrace. Matt Kramer of the Wine Spectator calls the belief that “if you like it, it is good” the biggest lie in the culture of wine, and, insofar as its mitigates against further learning and deeper appreciation of wine, I must say I agree. There are reasons the great producers and vineyards have been so esteemed over the years; it is because their wines are BETTER!

Sure, I am probably feeling a little defensive as reviewing wines is what I do for a living, but the notion that the words “good” and “bad” have no intrinsic meaning is just stupid. I suppose it comes back to my argument that there is such a thing as an educated palate, and that the more experience, knowledge and insight you pick up along the way, the more such truths become evident. And, happily, I do not feel like I am shoveling sand back into the sea for there is more interest in consumer wine education and classes than ever before. I would like to think there are reasons why.

1 http://www.forbes.com/sites/katiebell/2012/07/09/is-there-really-a-taste-difference-between-cheap-and-expensive-wines/

Monday Manifestos
Man Up, You Softballing Critics

Mon, 16 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Since when is a wine critic supposed to be a Pollyanna?

Here is what one critic wrote about why he does not publish negative reviews:

“I think I’m a reasonably good wine critic. But I’m not perfect, and I make mistakes. A false positive is undesirable, but it is less of a problem than a false negative.

If I err on the side of criticizing a wine, I could be causing a miscarriage of justice. My mistake could create problems for a producer, and I’d rather see an undeserving producer sell a few extra bottles than dent the sales of someone who has actually made a great wine, only for me to make a mistake and knock it down.

It can be entertaining to see a critic lay into a wine. And there are a lot of bad wines out there that deserve criticism. The risk of slamming an innocent wine with a bad review, however, is usually too high for me to want to do it on a regular basis.”

First the good news—for him. Wine critics are indeed not perfect.

Now the bad news—for him. If a critic is not good enough to get reasonably good reads on the wines he is tasting, he should not be in the wine criticism business.

I take the business of wine evaluation very seriously. It involves developing a body of knowledge based on years of tasting, years of study, years of taking great care to pay attention and to give every wine a chance. Even then, the best evaluators can get it wrong. I don’t mean differences in judgment about a given set of facts. I am talking about not seeing the facts. I am talking about seeing vinegary wine when it is not there. I am talking about not understanding the difference between grape tannins that age out nicely in balanced wines and wood tannins that are both coarser and less likely to smooth out. I am talking about tasting a wine whose main character is residual sugar in what is supposed to be a dry wine and calling it fruity.

And I am talking about critics who are so afraid that they will make those basic kinds of mistakes that they break out in a rash when they think about posting negative reviews. It leads to the kind of thinking that shows up at our doorstep from time to time on the part of wineries who get such reviews.

A case in point. We reviewed a fancy Cabernet from a good vintage from a good winery and get a very nasty phone call from the winery’s sales director. “How could you pan that wine?”, quoth he.

“That’s how we found it twice. Once with a bottle we bought and with a second bottle you sent us”, we responded.

It took a couple of years for that winery to talk to us, and it was the winemaker himself (not the owner or sales guy) to break the ice. “We did have a substantial batch of that wine go through malolactic fermentation in the bottle. Chances are that was the wine you received”.

There are many more stories that could be told, but this is not about true confessions—theirs or ours. It is about the responsibility to tell the truth. Wine reviewers are not cheerleaders. If you pay us to review hundreds of wines every month, you deserve to know not only which wines we liked and how much we liked them, but also to know which wines we did not like, how much and why.

Disagree with us when you do. Swear at us if you think we have insulted one of your children. But do not tell us to post only the good news. We are not in the public relations business. We are in the consumer information business—and that requires us and all comprehensive reviewers to tell the whole truth.

N. B. The man who wrote the comments above is not a comprehensive reviewer and thus has limited space to tell his tale. He does not need to and cannot post comments on everything he tastes anymore than we did when we were writing newspaper columns. Still, it was his idea to defend his decisions based on his fear of getting it wrong. And that takes us full circle. Whether you post on everything as we do here at Connoisseurs’ Guide or must cherry-pick your content for your limited-space column, you need to be confident that your negative reactions are right or you cannot be confident that your positive reactions are right. And if you cannot get to that point, you might just belong in the used car business.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
“Just Say No” To The Wrong Label Info

Fri, 13 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Is detailed ingredient labeling on wine useful? A recent Palate Press posting asked the simple question “do you really want to know” with respect to specific ingredients and techniques in any given wine. My simple answer is “not particularly”.

Let me be clear. I am very much a label reader when I go shopping for foods. I have reached the age where I pay attention to things like sodium and saturated fats and grams of carbohydrates per serving. I know what those mean; there are convincing scientific reasons for me to watch what I eat, and I do not chose what tastes best if I know that I am putting myself in harm’s way. I am, however, far less concerned about knowing every last detail about how a wine is made and what might be in it than I am about what it tastes like and whether or not it is any good. Other than drinking too much of the stuff, I have yet to hear of any dangers about which I need to be warned.

There is now a growing movement, we are told, that wants to see ingredient labeling and disclosure about winemaking technique on every bottle of wine. I suspect that the “movement”, much like the one clamoring for lower alcohols, is not all that significant in real numbers but may have a far bigger voice than its population predicts.

At the forefront of the parade, of course, are the advocates for “natural” and “minimalist” wines. I get a feeling that the calls for ingredient labeling, termed “transparency” by its advocates, are founded less on conscientious concern for the consumer and more on firming up the legitimacy of the “natural” bunch. You can bet that if ingredient labeling were to become mandatory “less is best” would quickly become even more of a marketing tool than it already is.

I have no issue with those who would chose to include anything they would like on the label of their wines, but I do not get the sense that there is imminent need with regard to public health nor is there really a large, grass-roots movement of wine drinkers who really care. As Caroline Henry, author of the Palate Press piece, rightly pointed out, “A list of additives, processes and agents used in winemaking methods would be incomprehensible to the majority of consumers…” I could not agree more. I know far more about such things than said majority of consumers, and I simply cannot see how those “additives, processes and agents” are in any way predictive indexes of character and quality. What I do see, however, is a monumentally difficult task of identification, oversight and regulation that detailed ingredient labeling would demand, and I am still left with the question as to what end.

I am much more interested in knowing the basic technical data like accurate alcohol readings, residual sugar, total acidity and pH. It is not that those numbers are necessarily predictive, but at least they are more helpful than a bunch of winemaking process information.

Until such time as someone can prove that this or that winemaking ingredient in inherently dangerous or that one winemaking approach is quantifiably superior to another, I am content to taste and seek out advice from trusted voices in finding wines that I like. That is the message that Brian Loring left in the comments section the other day, and I endorse that view.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
The 57th Report On The Death Of Wine Blogs

Tue, 10 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Wine blogging is dead. Well, maybe not dead, as in D-E-D, dead. Maybe just on vacation. Or on sabbatical. Or, napping. Not sure which, but I have been looking at the signs, and they are not good. To wit—

--There has been no Robert Parker scandal anywhere in the press for a month or more. Without Parker to kick around, the wine blogosphere finds itself in trouble. With 967 of us out there, all looking for something to say, it helps to have a scandal that we can all talk about. No scandal, no spikes in readership, etc.

--The 100-point scale in no longer a topic of any relevance. It is here, it is boring, it is both useful and useless at the same time. In fact, it is no more or less useful and useless than any other rating system every devised. We use it because it is easy, and because it is popular with the folks who pay the bills—namely the readers. But we no longer have to defend it because no one is attacking it. In fact, when Decanter Magazine, that English bastion of conservative wine journalism, or do I mean that conservative English bastion of wine journalism, recently adopted the 100-point system, almost no one noticed on this side of the pond. Too boring by half is why.

--These days, the humorous wine blog, The Hosemaster of Wine, is more popular than most blogs that take wine seriously, including this one. We can all agree that The Hosemaster is at least partially popular because it makes a lot of people laugh. Nothing wrong with laughter. But wine is too serious to make fun of. When a site like The Hosemaster of Wine becomes my first stop of the day in the blogosphere, then we know that all those other sites, like STEVE! and Sermentation are losing their grip on us.

--A good friend of mine writes a very popular blog. I can’t mention his name or that of his blog because I am about to give away one of his trade secrets. Back in the day when he was receiving many more hits than he is today, a very large proportion of his blog readership emanated from China. We all know that the Chinese cannot read English so that, by itself, may explain why readership is down.

--Here are blog topics that showed up with serious intent this past week. When you read them, you will realize why wine blogging needs a new Robert Parker scandal. “Choosing Winery Compliance As A Career”; “Tweets About McDonald’s, Burger King, Wendy’s”; “Soon To Be A Cretin”; “Five Tips For Mobile Commerce ROI”. Oh well, blogging just ain’t what it used to be.

BOTTOM LINE: You might think that this is all tongue-in-cheek stuff because it is all tongue-in-cheek stuff. The problem is, however, that it is also true.

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Tributes
Half-Time Is Over—Let’s See Some Action

Thu, 05 Jul 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

It feels like this year’s Fourth of July celebration has gone on for days. But, as the fireworks fade into memory, the calendar calls us back to reality.

Some would say that the hiatus in wine country has not been half a week but half a decade. We have been sleep-walking our ways through the last several years. No new plantings of significance. No vintages of the decade. No breakout region or variety. Grape gluts and wine gluts and falling grape prices. Even a few falling wine prices.

We have been left with a mixed bag of quality, a 2011 vintage not yet seen and a confused, seemingly rudderless industry. Up in Mendocino, they scrapped their efforts to make themselves known and closed down the grower/winemaker association. The rightfully renowned Hospice du Rhône tasting has gone away. Wineries have disappeared or been snapped up by corporate interests.

But nowhere have we seen change for the better, or progress, or new initiatives. OK, in part, we have to accept that ours is an “evolutionary” industry, not a revolutionary one. Even large changes in grapes, direction, popularity take time to develop and take time to diminish. We cannot just roll out a new model or invent an electric car or reimagine the way our vacuum cleaners work. We are not about “fast” in the wine business.

Still, after so many years of “slow”, of stagnation, of the status quo in most corners, it is time to seize the day. The economy is improving, vineyards that once went begging are now in demand, sales of wine are up across the board. And it is time for the wine world to get on with it.

Herewith then are five initiatives that we need to see blossom in the next two or three years.

--It is time for new plantings of varieties like coastally grown Zinfandel, chilly area Riesling, moderate climate Grenache to take off. We know that coastally-influenced Zinfandel has actually decreased in acreage over the last thirty years. Is it any wonder that Zinfandel has lost much of its market vitality. We know that Riesling thrives in areas that can ripen the grape in October at low sugars and high acidity. We see that scenario played out in the best examples from California, and we see how places like Washington State and New York State are succeeding with what is, for our money, the very best of the aromatic white grapes. We know that Grenache can produce significant wines in France and in Spain. Yet most of the Grenache here is still in vineyards too hot to make great wine. How about locations that are too hot for Pinot Noir and not hospitable to Cabernet Sauvignon? Upper hills in the near coastal valleys? The cooler parts of the Central Valley? The southeastern end of the Livermore Valley and the southern reaches of Santa Clara and Monterey counties? The hillsides of San Benito county?

--It is time to redefine geographic places names on wine whose meanings have become blurred beyond recognition. It may be heresy to say it, but the Napa Valley does not include places outside of the Napa Valley like Pope Valley, Chiles Valley, Wooden Valley. Rutherford is perhaps the priciest appellation in California, yet defining it by its political boundaries instead of using smaller and more meaning gradations like West Rutherford, Rutherford Floor, East Rutherford would be far more accurate and of much greater value to the consumer. The wines are different from each of those areas so why not define the areas legally? The same is true all over California where names like Russian River Valley, Northern Sonoma, Sonoma Coast are designed to serve growers and wineries, not the consumer. How about the far too big Paso Robles AVA?

--It is time to make label information more meaningful. The current rules for alcohol statements on wine labels are disgraceful examples of a failure to serve the consumer. Not only are the permitted differentials from the stated number far too wide (one and a half percent for wines under fourteen percent; one percent leeway for wines over 14%), but the placement of this valuable information sideways, hidden, and in a size that takes a magnifying glass to read is so anti-consumer that the wine industry should be ashamed. There is no part of the label of greater significance technically than the alcohol statement, but, there is another number that now needs to be included. In this era of ingredient labeling, the amount of sugar in wines ought to be a required label statement. The wineries will tell you that the such information will prejudice the consumers in some way. Yes, that is quite possibly true, and it is one of the strongest arguments in favor of disclosure.

--It is time for the folks who produce California sparkling wine to start telling the world that their products are not somehow different, cheaper, softer, duller. That myth has been perpetuated so widely that I was recently told by an otherwise intelligent sommelier in San Francisco that she did not have any California sparkling wine on her list because “they are all too sweet and too low in acid”. I may have reacted too strongly by telling this otherwise pleasant person that she had no idea what she was talking about. But, it is not my responsibility to tell restaurants in San Francisco that the wines of Schramsberg, Domaine Carneros, Roederer Estate, Gloria Ferrer have virtually identical acids and sugar levels as the Champagnes that these restaurants choose while ignoring the locals. It is the wineries’ job, and it is high time that I can find a reasonable cross-section of wines from all over the world without having to do the education job for them.

--It is time for our experimental vineyards to try fifty or one hundred varieties that are essentially new to California or so narrowly planted as to exist only in the minds of a few wine geeks. It matters not whether Albarino or Gruner Veltliner or Taurasi or Fiano or Romorantin can succeed or not. What matters is that we start looking again. Not only do we need the plantings discussed in the first paragraph of needed initiatives, we need a whole host of measured experiments in a variety of locations to see if we are missing something special.

Yes, California, our five-year half-time intermission is over. Time to get back to work in earnest.

Wednesday Warblings
In Defense of the “Educated Palate”

Wed, 27 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Is wine appreciation all a bunch of subjective nonsense? Is there actually something to know about wine beyond liking the one you are with? Do you need to be “educated” to enjoy wine, and is there any validity to the notion of expertise?

I would never for a moment argue that “knowledge” is a prerequisite to enjoyment of anything, from wine to fine food, from music to movies, from literature to visual art. I would, however, offer up a simple suggestion that there are many levels of pleasure to be found in each, and that pleasure can increase and deepen with the more you know. One of the great lies of the day, no doubt born of the leveling populism of the internet, is that there is no good, better or best beyond one’s individual and very temporal taste, and that with regards to wine, “education” is the engine of snobbery. Quality, some would have you believe, begins and ends in the eye of the beholder. My patience with those who trumpet that brand of intellectual anarchy has grown as thin as bad Pinot Grigio. And, yes, I do think there are objectively bad wines

There are also wines that have the ability to stop most everyone in their tracks with their downright deliciousness. Some are bold and others quite subtle, some that demand time and attention and some meant for unceremonious gulping. There are those that need coaxing and those that literally roar from the glass. I would never look down on anyone for liking this one or that, but, in turn, those of us for whom wine is a passion do not deserve derision for thinking that there is something to an educated palate. Despite the whine of loud and lonely internet poodles, we do not “need to get over ourselves.”

This morning’s musings arose from reading Dan Berger’s straightforward piece on “Getting a Good Wine Education” in the Press Democrat, or rather to a reader comment that made a defensive attack on any who might suggest education could open new vistas. Dan did not argue that you could not enjoy wine without an education, merely that there are things to know should the topic intrigue. The reader’s comments, however, are typical of so many angry, quick-click responses to writers who might pose the notion that there really are things to learn. “Why would anyone need to be ‘educated’ about wine in order to enjoy it”, the reader asks? I would reply simply that they do not, but it just might be that a little education might make it more enjoyable yet.

Fine wine is, like so many things, an acquired taste. I do not remember the very first wine I ever tasted, but I am reasonably sure that I did not like it. Was I wrong then? Am I simply deluding myself now? No and no are the answers, and, after nearly forty years of studying, I still consider myself a student. There is a new vintage every year and new pleasures waiting.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
The Nose Knows A Green Cabernet When It Smells It

Tue, 26 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

You have to hand it to scientific research. We now know that underripe Cabernet Sauvignon has more vegetative characteristics than riper Cabernet. I always thought so; now independent research has proven the case.

It happened at UC Davis, that important center of vinous learning where research was conducted to determine if alcohol levels in wine (feel free to equate that with ripeness levels) make a difference in the way qualified tasters perceive wine. Here are the findings:

When a panel of tasters evaluated wines grouped from the lowest levels of alcohol to the highest, the tasters found the higher alcohol wines to be far more flavorful and interesting than the preceding wines with low-alcohol levels.
Conversely, when the higher alcohol wines preceded those with lower levels, the tasters found those low alcohol wines to have diminished flavor attributes and enhanced vegetative qualities.

I don’t mean to make too much of this because we have no knowledge of the wines in question and thus we have no way of judging whether the samples themselves were at fault here. Did the wines come from the same vineyards? Has anyone established that there were satisfactory levels of physiological ripeness in the less alcoholic wines? Were the wines judged for quality or only for intensity?

On the other hand, I don’t really care because my nose has known for years that underripe wines are greener in character than satisfactorily ripened wines. And I will readily agree that today’s wines are generally higher in alcohol than they used to be. I can point to all kinds of reasons from trellising systems to more efficient yeasts to global warming to advances in plant health as causes one and all. But, as I say, I don’t care.

What I do care about is that how a wine smells and tastes. Cabernet Sauvignon varietal character has not changed in the four decades of my tasting experience. The Cabs of West Rutherford still smell identifiably of West Rutherford and the Cabs of Pauillac still smell identifiably of Pauillac. And folks, when I first compared the 1970s of both places (my first comprehensive vintage), those wines were different from one another but also related to one another. Funny thing is that the same is true today. Yes, the alcohol levels in both places has risen, and Napa is still riper by alcohol measurement than Bordeaux, but both places can also produce wines with higher vegetative characteristics in the less ripe wines of their areas. That was also true forty years ago and is true today.

So, let’s toast my nose—and yours. They know the truth. Ripeness brings enhanced character and underripeness brings greenness.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
The Good Side of County Fair Wine Judgings

Fri, 22 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I never thought that I would come to the defense of wine competitions, but that is the stance I find myself taking as this week draws to a close. Likely spurred by the announcement of winners from the Los Angeles International Competition, unfavorable opinions on the worth of such events have been bubbling up to the surface of the generally placid waters of this week’s otherwise boring wine news. I admit that I am usually quick to join in the chorus, but these days I am feeling at least a little discomfort with both simple summary damnations of such events and those that claim scientific authority based on statistical evidence.

For a very long time, I have declined all invitations to serve as a judge in any wine competition preferring instead to taste and review wines by our own CGCW methodology. My reasons? Too many wines in too short a time, questionable credentials on the part of some judges and strong-willed individuals whose bullying ways could take the fun out of wine tasting as fast as an impacted molar. And, I was never all that sure just what the value to a consumer might really be. The long lists of medal winners seem no more than grist for the machinery of corporate advertising, and, for the judges, it becomes a pleasant junket and a chance to visit with friends on somebody else’s dime.

It has been so long, in fact, since I joined in the “fun” that I decided to set aside my beliefs, or rather see if they were still justified, and accepted invitations to judge at two events in the last couple of months, one large and one small. They were very different events, and while I am still far from an uncritical convert, I am beginning to believe that the problem with wine competitions is not that they are fatally flawed by nature but that there are just too damn many of them and that they are not created at all equal. They are no different than any other forum for evaluating and judging wines, and their worth depends on organization, sane working conditions and competent folks doing the work.

I spent lengthy, but not unduly taxing, days sharing a table with thoughtful and practiced professionals and with some bubbleheads whose bonafides were open to question. That said, I would still argue that to paint “wine competitions” with a single, very broad stroke is tantamount to equating every professional wine review, publication and writer with the barking blogger who is quick to award 95 points, two ears and a tail to last night’s eight-dollar Moscato.

Professor Robert Hodgson has been academia’s leading critical voice of wine judges in competitive tastings and the medals they award, and I have often cited his work in my own diatribes against the same. He finds that, “the principal result is that winning a Gold is predominantly a matter of chance. This is based on theory and substantiated by fact.”

The fatal flaw, however, seems to lie with the judges rather than the format itself. I understand that palate fatigue and exhaustion will dull the ability of even the most competent professional, it is why we limit ourselves to 18 to 20 wines per day when tasting for CGCW. While I think it absurd to expect judges to taste two hundred or more wines in a day, I also think that eighty to one hundred tasted in groups of a dozen or so over the course of six to eight hours is not an outrageous number. That a wine might win applause at one competition and not at another may have to do with a goodly number of things, but I question the notion that the results from good tasters given ample time are based on no more than chance.

I suppose I wish that there some way some to quantify and rank the competitions themselves. Are some better and more consistent? Are there several that tend to yield statistically similar results while others seem geared to species other than our own? I know that there are a few to which I pay attention, while I have little use for most others.

I do not plan to become a regular participant of such events, but neither will I be quite so dogmatic in my distain for them. In the end, I suppose that I now grudgingly find wine competitions as potentially useful in helping a tyro make their ways through the labyrinth that the wine aisle has become. We are constantly told that the poor consumer is terminally confused when facing the enormous numbers of wines now available for purchase. A little guidance is nice. I cannot say that I can recall a genuinely bad wine that has won a gold medal at a major event, and I would suggest that opting for a wine that shows off its gold is a smarter choice than picking one because of a cute critter on its label.

Not everyone is looking for the detail and analytical depth provided by publications geared to the wine connoisseur and collector, and these wine competitions make no claim to providing that kind of information. When a simple medal is no longer enough to satisfy your needs, be assured that there is plenty of the deep and detailed stuff to be had.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Wanderings
Fire Up The Barbie—We’ve Got The Wines To Drink Right Here

Wed, 20 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

About this time last year, we were beginning to wonder whether or not Summer was ever going to arrive. Rains had ruined Memorial Day picnics and skies were gray and the days still had an uncommon chill. We were being told by some that a great vintage was in the offing, (we will wait to see about that), but it was strange territory, and the season progressed like a tumble down Alice’s rabbit hole.

Things are different this year, at least so far. Warm days have been the norm, and last weekend saw plenty of triple digit temperatures here in the bay area and throughout wine country. It is far too early to make any meaningful predictions as to just what the harvest will be like, but it does mean that alfresco suppers have returned and the grill is out of storage.

My kids would prefer that dinner be cooked and served outdoors every night, and I have never been able to come up with much of an argument why not. I am particularly fond of real barbecue, the kind that requires low heat, plenty of patience and the right kind of wood (hickory, oak and pecan are my favorites.) I have a real appreciation for brisket, and properly smoked chicken and duck can be a revelation, but my passion is pork from ribs to pulled shoulder to spicy links that have been cooked over smoldering logs of pecan. And, the wine to go with it is Zinfandel.

Oh, there are plenty of red varietals that I enjoy with barbecued pork, and as long as the wine is not too tannic, it will do useful service. A tangy Barbera or fruity Dolcetto are welcome, simple Côtes-du-Rhône reds and Spanish Garnachas are nice, and a vibrant young Beaujolais will never be refused. While pig and Pinot can be a match made in heaven, I do think the subtleties of good Pinot Noir tend to get lost in the smoke and spice and sauces of good barbecue. When given the choice, I will cast my vote for good Zinfandel every time.

It has been argued that Zinfandel inherently lacks the sophistication required of a truly great wine and that it is, at its best, a wine that has little place in fine dining. Anyone who has enjoyed the outstanding bottlings of Ridge, Ravenswood and Storybook Mountain Vineyard over the years knows just how silly such beliefs are. Still, good Zinfandel has a certain wild side that makes it so suitable to patently unsophisticated barbecue, and its combination of richness, generally temperate tannins and sheer fruity strength are hard to beat.

Here, then, are a few recent CGCW favorites that are especially well-suited to rich barbecue fare. They are culled from a long list of impressive efforts that we have tasted thus far this year, and they run the gamut from a stunning, eminently collectable wine that ranks the very best Zins to be had regardless of price to a bonafide Best Buy priced for everyday drinking and all points between. What they all share in common is a wonderful affinity for well-seasoned, saucy pork from the smoker, and they deserve a look from all fans of real barbecue.

95 BEEKEEPER Madrone Spring Vineyard Zinfandel Sonoma County 2009 $60.00
There are more than a few Zinfandels that display impressive concentration and depth, but not many manage to combine power and polish quite the way that this stunning newcomer does. From its wonderfully rich, highly extracted aromas of optimally ripened berries and fancy oak to its lengthy, like-minded flavors, it hits all the right varietal marks, yet it gives the impression that it has not begun to really show its stuff, and it could be another five years before it finds its fullest voice. It may not be cheap, but it is one that collectors will not want to miss.

92 PROULX Swiss Colina Zinfandel Paso Robles 2010 $30.00
Proulx is a welcome new name to the CGCW table, and, of its several fine wines, this one stands out as our favorite. From its intense aromatic beginnings to its rich and long-lasting flavors, it is charged with lots of well-defined, ripe-berry fruit and shows an appealing inclination to plushness. It is slightly supple in feel and sports a spine of well-managed tannins that affords a nice bit of structural grip, and, while certain to keep well and evolve for several years, it is a delicious, polished, fairly classic Zinfandel that is tasty right now.

92 SBRAGIA Gino's Vineyard Zinfandel Dry Creek Valley 2009 $30.00
Wonderfully expressive aromas of sweet berries, plums, cocoa and quince make for a most inviting start here, and the deep, well-filled flavors that follow do not disappoint. There is a bit of evident tannin underlying its layers of fruit, fine oak and mildly briary spice, but the wine avoids the least hint of coarseness and comfortably buffers its scant finishing heat with fruity extract to spare. As good Zinfandel so often does, it invites early drinking, but there is room for real growth and we would urge that a few bottles be cellared away.

89 MURPHY-GOODE Liar's Dice Zinfandel Sonoma County 2009 $21.00
This ripe, moderately full-bodied offering reminds that ripeness does not necessarily come at the expense of good balance, for, while it claims 15.5% abv on the label, it is a deep, impressively fruity wine that shows surprisingly good manners. Marked by a keen sense of berries from beginning to end and holding on for a long finish, this is one to serve alongside richer foods such as a slow-roasted pork shoulder.

88 OTTIMINO Zinfinity Zinfandel Sonoma County 2008 $18.00
Deep and well-defined blackberry fruit is the featured player in this very solid and fairly energetic young Zin, while scattered suggestions of briar and spice contribute a nice bit of interest and range. While the wine shows good weight and concentration, it is never less than balanced, and, if a touch of tannin shows up at the finish, it provides the kind of grip and structural spine that ensure several years of positive growth.

88 GNARLY HEAD Old Vine Zinfandel Lodi 2010 $12.00
As good a value as can be found among current Zinfandels, this well-crafted effort is simply without peer at the price. It is long on juicy, clean-as-can-be, distinctly varietal fruit and is filled out by a deftly placed dollop of creamy oak. Moderately full-bodied and very well-balanced with nary a hint of the heaviness or heat that sometimes come in wines of its provenance, it shows fine stamina and fruity length. It will make tasty drinking will all sorts of summery grilled fare but will keep well by dint of its balance.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
Choosing The Wine For Tonight’s Anniversary Dinner

Tue, 19 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

You might think that the several thousand bottles resting quietly in my wine cellar would make the choice easy. I have a better wine list than most restaurants, and that is only the half of it.

It is big number anniversary tonight, and Mrs. Olken deserves the best so we are off to Chez Panisse. We have not eaten downstairs at Alice Water’s gastronomic emporium for decades. Somehow, we could not get reservations whenever we tried. This time, despite having to eat a little later than these old bones prefer, we are on our way to Berkeley. Just need to shine my shoes and choose a special bottle.

Here’s the rub. I went out to the cellar the other day and found dozens of wines I want to drink tonight. The problem is that some are too old, some are too young, some, like 1961 Haut Brion, are so rare that I have never been able to bring myself to drink it and some are such old friends, like the 1970 Beaulieu Private Reserve, that despite age and incredible performance over forty years, they are almost too familiar.

And then there is this problem. Decades ago, when heading off to such events, I would plan on consuming two full bottles—a white of some kind and an aged red, and those worthies would be preceded by a glass of bubbly and followed by a glass of Port or Sauternes. I don’t try that now for all kinds of good reasons, including a heightened sense of personal safety and a very high degree of respect for my continuing right to possess a driver’s license. The obvious solution is to bring one special bottle and buy something by the glass to fill in.

Okay, but now I am stuck. I have some lovely, gracefully aging Champagne. If we were eating at home, it would be getting ready to be chilled down, but we are only going to bring one bottle and what about those forty year old reds that I have so lovingly kept in the dark, cold recesses of the cellar? The main course tonight is described on the website as grilled lamb. No hints as to seasoning or cut, but Chez Panisse has always played things pretty close to the classic line so I do know that an aged red, one that has not grown toothless over time, is going to work.

I have worked my way back to the 1961 Haut Brion as first choice for reasons of grand potential, and I have worked my way in the other direction when I think of that lone bottle and the chance that it simply has not survived. Oh well, choose something safer but special.

The choice is narrowed down now to two bottles—1974 Heitz Martha’s Vineyard and 1984 Ridge Monte Bello. I will check ullage and overall looks of the wines, and will choose one for dinner and one for a backup in case the first one has met its maker. I have learned that lesson the hard way. Don’t rely on one old bottle because it may not perform the way I would want given the ravages of time.

I must admit that working my way through the range of possibilities offered by my cellar has been fun. I have too many old bottles to ever enjoy them all, and it is clear that I need to find a setting to try wines that are nearing the back side of the hill. Perhaps, that is the next step. Invite the gang in, lineup some old friends and bid them farewell in the time honored tradition—by pulling the corks and finding out what they have been hiding all these years.

Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Olken.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
The Judgment of New Jersey-—Another Flawed Tasting

Mon, 18 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Both the New Yorker and the Wall Street Journal are reporting on a tasting whose results ostensibly elevate New Jersey wines to the level of Bordeaux reds and Burgundy Whites.

Having lived through the “Judgment of Paris” excitement back in 1976 (look it up if you don’t know what I am talking about) and having concluded long before the tasting took place that the California wines were going to show well (which, of course, they did), I knew then and know now that young wines with a decent dollop of ripeness and enough showy oak are always going to show well in some comparative tastings.

It happens all the time, and it is not a new phenomenon. The plain fact is that luscious wines win tastings, especially blind tastings in which the expectations are mixed at best and unknown at worst. This is not to say that the New Jersey wines are plonk, and that their $35 price tag has nothing to do with some mix of quality and marketability or that Mouton-Rothschild’s $600 price tag is somehow configured differently.

We have always known that one pays lots of extra money for small but significant increases in perceived difference. We have also always known that some folks will pay over the odds for the wines in their cellars but are very happy with mid-quality tennis rackets, shoes, shirts, steaks. So, when a mixed bag of average to professional tasters gathered in New Jersey to taste a mix bag of wines, it is not surprising that there were mixed results.

The tasting and its results are flawed, not because such tastings are worth doing and redoing and doing in a variety of ways and venues. The more tasting the better. The more comparisons of wines that should not be compared (if one believes the insider geek arguments), the better. Some will produce replicable results and some will not. But, all such tastings are flawed because, in their rawest states of analysis, they lead folks like the New Yorker to publish articles entitled “Does All Wine Taste The Same”?

Over the years, Connoisseurs’ Guide has done its share of “flawed” tastings. We offer no apologies to anyone who is offended by putting Tuscan reds into a blind tasting with California Sangiovese. We make will provide no mea culpas for bringing New York, Michigan, Washington, California, German and Australian Rieslings together. Frankly, tastings like that are fun to do and frequently produce results that make us think. Occasionally, they even produce results that change perceptions. But, frankly, doing a tasting with six Red Burgs and six California Pinots does not prove a lot except that many tasters can tell many wines apart but that all tasters rarely tell all wines apart. Sure, we Californians love it when our wines fool almost everybody—like the Gary Farrell Pinot in one such tasting that we all, including a couple of visitor from Gaulle, picked out as French.

These kinds of tastings, done in isolation, neither confirm nor deny the greatness of wines from France or California or New Jersey. I know why the California wines in Paris won the tasting. They tasted better as young wines. I know why similar tastings of aged wines have at times shown the California wines to still be tasting better several decades later, and I know why the opposite has also been shown. Wine is not monolithic nor are tasting preferences and competences. And I also know why, on occasion, a $12 Cabernet will outpoint very good wines with much higher prices. Accessibility, better balance when young, intensity that still-nascent wines have yet to develop all can bring about such results.

Our response here at Connoisseurs’ Guide is to retaste all of the wines that show well. Change the context, put the great and the almost great together. Bring standards to bear that measure greatness, not just accessibility, into the equation. Let the wines show themselves again.

That is the standard that needs to be applied to the New Jersey results. Let those wines be tasted against a wide variety of peers in a wide variety of settings. Then the results will not be a one-off that lead otherwise intelligent writers into premature judgments.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Move Over Zinfandel—Petite Sirah Is Coming Through

Fri, 15 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Zinfandel is often called California’s unique claim to fame, but I am beginning to wonder if it might soon have to move over a bit and share the stage with Petite Sirah.

Yes, I know that Petite actually has Gallic roots and owes its very life to one Monsieur François Durif, but it is more or less a failed grape in France, and precious little of the stuff is even grown there. There is a smattering to be found down under in Australia, but absolutely nowhere can you find as many Petite Sirahs of intent and real interest as you can in California, and the number is on the rise.

It is far from a routine occurrence, but every now and then I find myself craving a big, downright swaggering, unabashed red wine with unfettered tannins and a real sense of grip, the kind of wine whose authority derives from great inner strength rather than from nuance and hypercritical analysis. Nothing masquerading as fine and fancy, and nothing with lilting complexities and reasoned nuance that compel me to think in those times that I would prefer to neither lilt nor think. A wine to which you react without hesitation when it says step out of the car and put your hands over your head. Ah, that would be Petite Sirah, and, if I confess to some overstatement here, it is only by degrees, not by direction.

It used to be that I would hold my head in my hands as the time to review new Petite Sirahs grew near, but I admit that circumstances have changed. Other than a few iconic, fondly remembered bottlings of the late 1960s and early 1970s from Ridge, Freemark Abbey, Mount Veeder and Carneros Creek wineries and the singularly temperate examples from Concannon, Petite Sirah more often than not came closer to being a version of vinous assault than an exercise in thoughtfully crafted musculature. I wondered if the key tools in making Petite Sirah might not be a gun, a whip and a chair.

I have been slow to warm to Petite Sirah, and I am not close to declaring my undying allegiance and calling it my favorite grape, but I think it is no exaggeration to say that there are more interesting Petites to be had than at any time in the past, and they come in all shapes and sizes. There are those “classic” examples that ripple with sinewy tannins. There are those whose ripeness has pushed them to the brink, and there are those that hit the gas and go joyously right over the cliff. There are, however, a good many that exhibit real winemaking polish, and Petite Sirah winemakers as a group seem to have learned how to tame an unruly beast without breaking its spirit.

We have just finished with our last-minute edits of the upcoming July issue of CGCW wherein Petite Sirah and Rhône varietals are featured, and it is the surprisingly strong performance of Petite that has me thinking over this morning’s coffee. It is well worth making the acquaintance with names like Frank Family, Gusftason, Miro, Priest Ranch, Vagabond and Stanton if, like me, you at times crave a well-made red wine that speaks with a roar rather than a whimper. And lest I forget, Ridge and Concannon have maintained their standings as leaders of the pack going on now for four decades and counting.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Wanderings
Trench Warfare In The Low Alcohol Debate

Wed, 13 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

The debate about alcohol levels in wine has become a journalistic staple of late, and the gladiators are at it again.

Most recently, W. Blake Gray¹ and Steve Heimoff² have climbed into opposing pulpits and are waving the banners of truth and lies at one and other, and, not surprisingly, Alice Feiring³, the low-alcohol “Maid of Orleans” herself, is again drawn like a moth to the limelight. The push and pull of either side of the argument is constant, and battle lines are indelibly drawn with opposing sides digging in deeper and deeper. While I do pay passing attention to each new attack and defense, I confess more to boredom than anything else. I am not hearing new insights, and conversions are few. The stalemate of trench warfare seems to have set in.

What I suppose bothers me most is the claim from the evangelical, born-again champions of the low-alcohol stuff is that there is a serious, almost revolutionary “movement” afoot and that those unrepentant winemakers who have not seen the light are feeling defensive and beginning to worry. I hope that is not the case, and I have seen little evidence to make me believe it is so.

I happen to live fairly comfortably in what we might call “no man’s land”, that place between the two lines of combat. I can comfortably watch each side lob its incendiary missives overhead and otherwise go about my business unfettered. My worry is that if one or the other is successful in some broad offensive that I will have no choice but to live under the winner’s rules. I am beginning to feel like the peaceful denizens of 19th- and 20th-century Alsace wondering what color uniforms will be marching through town next.

I have said it before, and I will say it again; please, let’s stop talking about numbers and go back to talking about wines one at a time. Variety, it is said, is the spice of life, and, given a particular mood or meal, I will religiously gulp down wines of most every stripe providing that they are well made. My fear is that we may reach a point where my choices have been precipitously narrowed and one or another catechism is the held to be THE way.

My suspicions are that the market will be the ultimate arbiter in the war, but I cannot quite shake the memory of when “food wine” mentality was broadly embraced by influential California producers; not that rich wines were suddenly gone, but they were harder to find. Others will scoff at the validity of anything defined by the market, and, indeed, there is strong element of smarter-than-thou, wine-geek esoterica at the heart of the conflict.

Now, I never thought that the world of fine California wines was principally defined by its excesses. Yes, a fair number of wines check in with high alcohols, but 15+% has never been the norm hereabouts, and, even the most vocal and influential champions of restraint and nuance still recommend some such bottlings with gusto. Witness the gushing endorsement of Chappellet’s heady, very ripe 2009 Pritchard Hill Cabernet by the San Francisco Chronicle’s Jon Bonné.⁴

While I would not argue against the notion that California wines are ripe and fruit-forward in style, I do not see the need for and thus and question the wisdom of remaking ourselves in the image of France and Italy. The last time I looked, there were plenty of “classic” European bottles to be had, and, while I find real pleasure in them, I am not about to forego the sheer sensuous joy of great Cabernet from Napa Valley or Pinot Noir from Sonoma’s Russian River Valley or Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel.

For now, to use Ms. Feiring’s words, I do think there is an “anti-cult cult” aspect to the debate. The new producers most often held up as icons by the low-alcohol cadre leaders of a “revolutionary” movement are making wine in such limited quantities as to be rarely seen. “Revolutions” are the stuff of enormous change and depend on a certain critical mass for success.

Alas, the dialogue or, rather, the two opposing monologues, seem destined to continue. A new organization calling itself “In Pursuit of Balance” is making a name for itself in promoting lighter wines. I can only hope that all of us who sell and write about wines pursue balance in our thinking as well.

1 http://blog.wblakegray.com/2012/05/low-alcohol-lovers-have-high-alcohol.html
2 http://www.steveheimoff.com/index.php/2012/06/12/the-big-lie-about-low-alcohol-wines/
3 http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2012/06/10/big-jammy-not-anymore-california-s-wine-takes-new-direction.html
4 http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2012/05/18/FD311OI9AC.DTL

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
I Feel Better When I Think About Wine

Tue, 12 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I think therefore I am. I hold that truth to be self-evident. The world is my oyster. Give me an inch and I will take a mile.

And, folks, that’s all there is to it. I have long believed that the power of positive thinking is, after good health, the greatest gift we can possess. And now, through the magic of a glass of wine, all of my clichés and borrowed wisdom has been proven to be true.

Researchers in New Zealand have discovered that if people simply think that having a glass of wine will be relaxing, they will relax. I, of course, have lived by that theory for decades—and it has served me well. But now, new research, conducted right here in Connoisseurs’ Guide laboratory, has uncovered the real truths about drinking wine and thinking.

I can report, for example, that merely thinking about Petite Sirah will make me think I am stronger, leaner and tougher—all good things. It’s a pity that it also makes me feel all tannic and swarthy. And drinking Petite Sirah brings on a whole ‘nother set of problems. I can report that our research shows that drinking Petite Sirah can cause hair to grow on the back of one’s hands. Of course, that only happens in one drinks and thinks at the same time.

There is a better solution. Drink Riesling. Riesling makes people think of springtime and wild flowers and romping barefoot through the meadow. I know this to be true from my undergraduate days when it was proven beyond doubt that one’s dates frolicked more heartily when they were told that they would be drinking Riesling. Serving them Riesling also worked, of course. In fact, the time between mentioning Riesling to them and handing them a glass of luscious liquid was so short that it is possible that my research has confused thinking with drinking.

Today, of course, I think most often of Pinot Noir. Is there another grape anywhere that lends a gentlemen a greater air of sophistication? None of that overripe Zinfandel for me. That is the stuff of rugby players. I used to play Rugby back in my uninformed youth. But my wine was all wrong. Somehow Lancer’s and Mateus did nothing for my game.

Mrs. Olken has long been a Sauternes drinker. One immutable rule of dinner parties at our house is that they have to end with Sauternes. I always thought it was because she thought I was an old smoothie. Now, it turns out that just thinking of Sauternes not only takes the wrinkles out of her furrowed brow but makes her all the sweeter. OK, I had to say that, but I do think it might be true, because Sauternes does make her happier.

Come to think of it, those Kiwis who have just discovered the mood-altering potential of our favorite substances, are way behind the times. Have they never heard of the summer of love?

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
The Simple, Unvarnished Truth: To Thine Own Palate Be True

Mon, 11 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

The more wines I taste from 2010, the more questions I have about the vintage. The one thing for certain is that the year is one that does not lend itself to simple description, and it will be the source of plenty of conversation and contention.

I was struck last night by the Jeckyll-and-Hyde differences to be found in the vintage when trying a couple of hitherto untasted 2010 Pinots for dinner. Both were from the Russian River Valley, and the two wines headed in very different directions. One was supple and smooth and insistently fruity, while the other struck me as a scrawny underachiever.

All the same, I could not help thinking that the wine I considered to be overly stiff, a little too green and singularly lacking in reach would in some critical circles be praised for those very traits and be loudly applauded for its freshness and infinite nuance.

I get the feeling at times “quality” is defined for some by what a wine is not as much as by what it is. It should not be too ripe, not too alcoholic, not too fruity and not too oaky. Words like “restraint” and “subtlety” are bandied about but they come with no attendant sense of satisfaction and joy. They are virtues of a faintly puritanical bent.

Please, make no mistake, I am not making the claim that more is necessarily better. I am no fan of syrupy, overly ripe wines nor those that are shot through with spirituous heat, but I do not mind confident character and intensity, and I do admit to liking bottles that speak specifically to fruit. There are times and settings where wines with a lighter touch are welcome. A vibrant Chablis, a cleansing Muscadet or a racy Mosel might be the perfect match for the menu, but you will not find me waxing poetic over those wines because they are “minimal” or that they are academically precise reflections of terroir. I will do so because they happen to taste good!

I sometimes wonder if we have gotten away from that simple truth. Have we become so limited by a checklist of quantifiable responsibilities that a wine must meet, from its alcohol to its acidity to its pH and absolute “naturalness,” that we have forgotten about simple pleasure? I have never been much for staying within well-defined lines, and I get the sense lately that there are too many lines being drawn and too many voices claiming which ones are right.

To the new generation of wine drinkers, I would simply say listen to those voices that ring true to you, be wary of rigidly drawn lines and do not forget to have a little fun.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
I Can No Longer Afford La Tache—Part Deux

Fri, 08 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I call this essay “Part Deux” because it is about my love of France and my unwillingness to pay through the nose for my daily tipple.

Something happened in my childhood that gave me a warped sense of values. Despite being treated to a classical east coast education at a “Latin” high school, where everyone was expected to study that dead language, I insisted that I was going to honor that part of my brain that had, for no apparent reason, fallen in love with France and would study its language instead.

Four years later and with a year of college French also under my belt, I headed off for my first visit to La Belle France. It was the first of many, including two glorious weeks just a month ago. People say that the French are a hard people to like. I find them delightful. People say that it takes years of study to understand French cheeses, French wines and French regions. I took to them like they were old friends of the family.

I will admit that my love of wine did not start with France. It started in high school with cheap California red and progressed from there to Hearty Burgundy. But, after that first visit to France, I was hooked on Beaujolais. It was not expensive and it was bright, fruity and went down easily with everything we college kids cooked in our fireplace on date night cook-ins.

Had I not decided to spend a couple of years in California for grad school, I might never had given the wines which now fill my wine cellars (yes, more than one) a chance. Fate is like that. But, my love of French wines never faded and neither did their places in my cellars. Even today, when I go to fancy restaurants and bring my own well-aged red to dinner, it is as likely to be a hoary Bordeaux as anything else.

But, like Steve Eliot commented in yesterday’s blog, I no longer get to buy the First Growths or even the so-called “Super Seconds” because the new wines, the ones that should really be allowed to age a couple of decades, cost more than the equivalent and older bottling of the same wine—and I have plenty of those.

And so it will be when Mrs. Olken and I head out in a couple of weeks to celebrate a big-number anniversary at Chez Panisse, I will be deciding whether to bring a Bordeaux from the sixties or the seventies or the eighties. They were affordable then; less so today.

This topic, what to drink when one wants to taste great wine and is willing to spend a bit for it, is going to be a constant theme with us. Steve Eliot started it and it was the topic of a lively conversation at today’s tasting. There are wines that are worth the splurge, and there are still the occasional priceworthy wines that should be bought up by the handful and laid away because of the glory they will provide going forward. It may be harder to find them and harder still to afford the obvious great wines, but wine collecting is not a dying art, and future columns here will address themselves to that very subject.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Can’t Afford La Tache? Neither Can I

Wed, 06 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

The great wines are no longer real. They are nothing more than figments of the imagination floating on the pages of this wine rag or that. They do not exist because I can no longer afford them.

My fascination with the ways that the culture of wine has come during my professional lifetime is ceaseless. I look wistfully back on a time when the great names of Bordeaux and Burgundy could be found in my cellar. I simply cannot now afford to drink those bottles that I once drank with abandon.

The very best wines that once were merely expensive and thus an infrequent, though not impossible, treat are now so stratospherically priced that, but for the occasional professional tasting, I doubt that I shall ever drink them again. They have become symbols of high status rather than real-life culinary communion.

The world is both a larger and a smaller place now, and each new economic center of plenty gives rise to a new population of well-to-do tyros looking to join in the fun. It is simple supply and demand at work, and there is only so much first-growth claret and grand cru burgundy and cult Cabernet to go around. Still, when the world of instant internet journalism is rife with reports on profligate spending such as was seen in the just-concluded annual Napa Valley wine auction, I stop and shake my head at how things have changed.

Oh, I am not bitter nor am I more than just a little bit jealous. Fine wine for me has never been about “trophies”. It is for drinking and sharing, and I still hold to that truth.

It is often said that there are now too many wines made in the world, and that the consumer is hopelessly confused when it comes to making a choice. It is, however, that very profusion of well-made wines that keeps me enthralled.

From the beginning, it has been the adventure of discovery that made wine so exciting, and there are, I would argue, far more genuinely fine wines to be had that ever before. Many of those without storied pedigrees are incredibly rewarding, and every new vintage comes with greatness just waiting to be noticed. Many of my old icons are beyond reach, but I have no trouble at all finding wines that are involving, genuinely compelling and with stories to tell. Wines that I still can afford. And, the thrill of the search is as real today as ever.

I think, in the end, that is what drives those of us who have been hopelessly smitten with wine. However much we may know about wine, the treasure hunt is renewed every vintage, and there are literally thousands of new wines to be tried. Old friends may pass, and I may remember them fondly, but there are new ones waiting to be discovered and loved every day.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
Everyone Is Buying—The Economy Is Saved

Tue, 05 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

There is a lot of money sitting in the vaults of big business and the fat cats just waiting for the economy to turn around. Now we have proof positive that those cash reserves are being put to work in the wine industry.

Everyone is buying. There is nothing better for the economy than when money starts moving around. Oh sure, if you bought Facebook the other day, you might not be so happy, but take a look please at some of the headlines in our own industry. Cash is no longer sitting on the sidelines.

Got a winery you don’t want? Ask the Gallos or Bill Foley or Accolade, the Aussie wine group that just bought Geyser Peak, Atlas Peak and XYZin.

Got a good charity you want folks to support? Have a look at the just concluded Napa Valley Wine Auction that just raised $8 million.

There is no question. Money is on the move, and the economy will not be far behind.

The question of the economy goes deeper than a bunch of fat cats and big money winery owners, of course. Wine consumption is rising at rates that suggest a healthier middle class. Maybe it is all illusory, but when people feel better, they spend, and people feel better.

The suggestion that a grape shortage is about to visit the land may seem hyperbolic at first glance, but consider the evidence. Not only is everyone buying, but rootstock sales in 2012 have picked up. That should come as no surprise, of course, because there have been virtually no significant plantings in California for almost a decade. Even in 2011, which at least showed an increase of something approaching 1%, it was Pinot Noir accounting for half of that, and half of the Pinot Noir went into Sonoma County.

Pinot Noir may be one of the varieties to go into short supply first because demand keeps rising fueled in part by prices that are more or less half of those one would pay for Cabernet Sauvignons of equivalent quality. People may have more money to spend, but they still prefer not to throw it away.

I also worry about coastally grown Zinfandel. There has been no increase in that acreage in a couple of decades. That Zin prices have not taken off is as much a function of Zinfandel getting a bit ahead of itself in its pursuit for depth and intensity as anything else. As Zin makers cut back on ripeness in the search for a lighter sense of balance to their wines, Zin could see its fortunes rebound. And it would not take much to see Zin prices move up if that happens.

The fact is that we all want a robust economy. The other fact is that wine grapes are an agricultural commodity, and plantings respond to supply and demand. But unlike corn or tomatoes, one cannot get a crop in the same year as the plantings. I will accept that I have been too facile in pointing to the big money moves in wine as proof of change, but may not too too much because big money only moves when big money thinks that the small money that makes up the retail market is also going to move. And if the retail market keeps moving, then it could take some years for the grapes to catch up.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
Hazy Wine—No Longer A Dirty Word

Mon, 04 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

An objective wine scoring system would, in almost all circumstances, turn hands down on any wine with an obvious hazy appearance. Haze in wine, has traditionally meant “bad” such as protein or failed filtration. Rarely has any so-called “objective” scoring system allowed a hazy wine to be acceptable—let alone to earn maximum points for appearance.

And because almost all tasters are influenced to some degree by the learnings of their elders, hazy wines tend to set off all kinds of alarm bells. Even if we have never heard of the UC Davis 20-point system, most everybody in the wine industry has, and that is why we so rarely encounter hazy wines. Most are filtered or made clear with the use of fining agents inserted into the aging vessel whose purpose is to drop through the wine and render it clear and clean of impurities.

But even wines that are unfined and unfiltered are usually allowed to age in storage vessels, tanks or barrels, until they “drop clear”, which means that anything in the wine that might make it hazy in appearance has dropped to the bottom of the vessel and is left there while the clear wine is removed.

There are, however, a small but increasing number of hazy wines whose appearances can be shocking but whose character is deep and rich. Wines like Chasseur Chardonnay, for example, are intentionally allowed to be hazy in order to have the wine capture all of the pulpy fruit essence that is available to the wine.

It is one thing to taste blind and not know anything about the wines one is tasting. It is quite another to come across wines that are intentionally violating the old rules. It calls for a suspension of disbelief in order to ignore their appearance as abhorrent and disqualifying and, thus, to smell and taste them without preconception. But that is exactly what is called for. Movie critics and restaurant critics clearly know what they are experiencing, who made it and what its previous incarnations have delivered. Now it is wine critics and wine lovers who must “close their eyes” and let their senses be their guides.

There is no right or wrong to this “appearance” issue. The leaders of the cause have been wineries whose success has been pre-established with clear wines, and those providers have continued to be successful with hazy wines. But, as with all new things in wine, there will be imitators and late comers, and the seeming strings of hits that taught us to avoid turning our noses up prematurely when encountering such wines have now been joined by wines whose haziness is also accompanied by the usual range of flaws that such wines have heretofore predicted.

There is no better advice in wine than to taste blind before deciding, but, in the absence of that possibility, whether with hazy wines or not, the next best thing is to create a blank slate in your mind and allow yourself to be open to the possibilities of goodness while not ascribing any character before tasting.

I would not call Connoisseurs’ Guide proponents of hazy wines. We are too damn finicky to subscribe to any theory or gambit before tasting the individual wines, but, on the whole, our experience with hazy Chardonnays (think Chasseur, Bjornstad, Fort Ross, Peay and lots of others) so far has been more rewarding than not.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
California’s Rhône Movement: At a Crossroads

Fri, 01 Jun 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

California’s Rhône movement is stuck in the doldrums these days. No news in that. But as the wine markets heat up, “wither the Rhônes” is a question worth asking.

Oh, there’s plenty of chatter about Rhône varietals among writers and critics and dyed-in-the-wool devotees, but a quick glance at retailers’ shelves and wine lists tell a different tale. There are some very good wines to be had, but the wind has gone out of the sails of a once promising campaign and is not showing any signs of picking up soon.

It has become popular, however wrong-headed, to belittle the once much-ballyhooed Syrah with same condescension hitherto reserved for Merlot. Viognier had a very bright start, and there are a handful of excellent wines, but results are mixed in terms of both quality and style. Grenache has some promise, Mourvedre less so. While a few outstanding Marsannes, most notably those made from grapes grown in Napa Valley’s Stagecoach Vineyard, have emerged, the remaining hodge-podge of whites has generated but modest excitement hereabouts, and there is no rush to new plantings of any. The one “hot” grape is Petite Sirah, but it is something of an outlier and a rustic, once-removed Rhône cousin in any event.

Rhône varietals have always been a bit enigmatic here. Syrah and the whites are only a few decades arrived, and the scattered patches of older Mourvedre (Mataro), Carignane, Grenache and Cinsault vines that exist were only recently looked at as something with value beyond blending. A few locales have earned a small claim of fame, but specific style and the grail of distinctive terroir remain somewhat elusive.

Maybe it’s a natural ebb and flow, and today’s circumstance reflects what must by necessity be a lengthy process of finding the right sites and a well-practiced winemaking hand. Maybe, it is just that the abiding appetite for something new and implacable consumer attention deficit have thinned the ranks of would-be enthusiasts, but I am simply not hearing a chorus of hurrahs for the Rhône grapes these days.

We are finishing our tastings and going over our notes for our annual Rhône feature in the July issue of CGCW, and, just as they have been for the last several years, these questions are once again on my mind. They are not new, but this year they a little more pointed as word has come this week that the annual Hospice du Rhône celebration in Paso Robles has been discontinued after twenty years of seeming success.* I am sorry to hear the news.

Hospice du Rhône organizers Vicki Carroll and John Alban made the announcement and, after expressing thanks for their supporters over the years, went on to say simply that it is time for Hospice to Rhône to take a new direction focusing on smaller, more intimate settings. The reason, they have said, is not financial, but, when I hear someone say that it is not about the money, experience teaches that it more often than not is.

It has been some years since I made my way to Paso Robles for the festivities, but I had lots of fun when I did. I do confess, however, that I have at times wondered just how much the event might really have broadened the consumer base and the appreciation of Rhône varietals. It always seemed more a celebration on the part of those already in fold, preaching to the choir if you will. That choir, however, is not about to disappear. It apparently just needs to get bigger.

What, then, is the future of Rhône varietals in California? Is greatness in the offing, and, if so, when? I do not think the questions require crystal-ball speculation. There are simply too many significant bottlings available to believe that the wines will do other than both improve and grow in number. The path may be slow and it may not always be smooth, but I am confident that we have not heard the last from the folks at the Hospice du Rhône, nor have we seen the last of their often remarkable wines.

* http://www.hospicedurhone.org/news-and-press/news.php?id=125

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Thursday Thorns
Keep Your “Vulgar” Wine To Yourself

Thu, 31 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

The other day, Tom Wark, the father of the wine blogging movement (at least as far as I am concerned), examined, with utter respect, the use of the term “vulgar” in a respected wine blog.

You can find the initial blog at http://biggerthanyourhead.net/2012/05/27/wine-and-vulgarity/, and you can find Wark’s analysis of that blog and further comments from a number of folks including yours truly at http://fermentation.typepad.com/fermentation/2012/05/can-a-wine-really-be-bad-for-your-soul.html.

I have taken great exception both to the use of the word itself, and to its specific use to damn, without examination, an entire class of wines that are simply not to the taste of the critic, a Mr. Fred Koeppel, who is, and deserves to be, a respected wine journalist.

Here then, my responses on the Wark blog. If you are interested in the discussion, I would encourage you to explore both of the links above for the complete context of my remarks. By the way, Mr. Koeppel and I (and Connoisseurs’ Guide) are not in great disagreement in our preferences. It is in the ways in which we express our differences and wines that we dislike that have caused me a certain degree of dyspepsia.

This in response to the Koeppel and Wark blogs.

There is an inherent anti-ripeness bias in Koeppel's argument that renders it useless. The existence of alcohol in the 15+ range is casually but unmistakenly conflated with soft and gooey, raisiny, baked wines. It reminds me of the same "guilt by association" that is suffered by Lodi.

Wines are not judged individually but by class. It is a nonsense.

And one does not have to look very carefully to also understand that this criticism is rendered against CA wines uniquely. The argument itself is vulgar. It does not need references to the Kardashians or the Donald Trump.

Vulgarity the way Koeppel uses the term is not like pornography. The wines he dislikes may well be disliked by most of us, including me, but they are legitimate styles that do not bend anything beyond the bounds of expectation.

If there is one thing that we have learned about wine over the years, decades, centuries, it is that wine has more potential to move in ways that are new than we can even imagine.

The moralists, the absolutists, the holier than thou in the wine community are entitled to their opinions. I grant them that absolutely. And I grant myself the right to ignore them absolutely.

And this in response to comments from both Mr. Wark and Mr. Koeppel to me.

Tom, I am hardpressed to see how wine can be vulgar. I suppose that vulgar applies to things that are incredibly distasteful, but in thirty five years of reviewing wine, I have never called a wine vulgar.

And plenty of wines not to my taste are clean, well-made and recommendable to folks who like those styles. A wine that is pruney to the point of losing any semblance of character derived from fruit instead of raisins is very unlikely to win my praise, but otherwise balanced wines that have fixed sulfur or raging volatile acidity are far worse wines in my view because they are flawed in the winemaking sense.

Wines that are clean and are consistent with the winemaker's intent may be over the top in my view but they are not dirty and they are not dismissible as a class.

Mr. Koeppel, thank you for responding. Your bias, your preferences are your own business. Like me, you have a long history in evaluating wine, and, while it is irrelevant that our preferences sound more similar than different, we do differ very dramatically in how we would characterize wines we do not favor in general.

The ripe wines of Carlisle or Turley or Edmeades or Wilson or M + D Phillips are certainly exaggerated expressions when compared to the norm, but they are, in my view, very far from vulgar and thus do not deserve to be damned because they are part of a class that goes beyond normative expectations.

Compared to the Clarets of the 1870s, with their 9% ABV and ultra high TA and VA, today’s Bordeaux are vulgar in the way you have defined the term. Things change and potential gets extended. We can agree that wines with technical flaws are often unacceptable, but wines that are different are not vulgar. Sorry to beat on this topic, but there is too much summary judgment in what I understand to be your position and not enough judgment based on the character of individual bottlings.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Wanderings
Stuck In Lodi And Liking It

Wed, 30 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Good wine is more than a beverage. Just ask any wine lover. The allure of good wine is not about acid and alcohol and pH or what kind and how much oak, it is about history and place and culture. It is at once both uniquely personal and speaks to each of us in a particular way, and yet its continuity of expression and singular voice is recognized by us all. It seems, at times, to link us to what has been and will be. It can make us feel part of some meaningful continuum.

There is something about tasting a wine made from very old vineyards that drives me to the philosophical brink. Those of you who have walked among venerable, century-old vines know the feeling. It is palpable. You swear that you can, in fact, hear the vines speak.

Last week we spent the day in just such a vineyard in Lodi comprised of own-rooted, old vine Cinsault planted by Joseph Spenker in 1880 and still in the hands of the family that planted it. We tasted our ways through a good number of wines, both red and rosé, born of its grapes. While the wines were good, some of them very good, in fact, it was not a day for scoring and scrutiny but rather one for listening to stories of the past and making new acquaintance of the fascinating ways in which California wines have come.

“Discovery” is not quite the right word as there is a certain arrogance in thinking you have “discovered” something that has been there for so very long, but the day had that feeling of quiet excitement when stumbling on unexpected treasure. Maybe “enlightenment” is a better word to describe the afternoon.

Lodi is too often looked upon with derision by today’s “connoisseurs”, but the oceans of nameless and faceless plonk that comes from it and its neighboring Woodbridge distinct are not all that comes from the appellation. The place has a significant niche in the history of California wines, and it is still the home of more than a few remarkable vineyards filled with very old vines planted in the 19th century.

The best of Lodi’s old-vine bottlings, be they Zinfandel, Petite Sirah or, in this case, Cinsault, are immensely satisfying wines of real character and genuine interest. They deserve more respect and attention than they sometimes receive, and, yes, they have stories to tell to those who are willing to listen.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
DUI—A Scary Story

Tue, 29 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I have chosen to air this article under Tuesday Tributes because I want to salute the courage of a fellow winewriter who had the intestinal fortitude to share his experience with us all. He is Greg Walter, a long-time journalist and one-time editor of the Wine Spectator. Today, he publishes The Pinot Report. Greg was stopped in the Napa Valley, tested for alcohol and found to be just over the legal limit. My guess is that his 0.10% Blood Alcohol level has been met by this writer, and many of those reading this column, on more than one occasion. Believe me. I take no pleasure in printing Greg’s report. It is scary, sobering and highly instructional.

“Usually I like to keep the subject matter of this column light hearted and easy to digest. I’m sorry to say that this one will be neither. In fact, I’m hoping that it makes a serious impression on you. I’m hoping that you will think long and hard about what I’ve written here.

Nearly two months ago now I was pulled over, cited and arrested for DUI in Napa. It was late in the evening and I was driving on Highway 29 like I’ve done thousands of times. My BAC (blood alcohol concentration ) was .10, .02 above the legal limit of .08. A very professional CHP officer administered the various tests to make that determination. At that point the officer informed me that I was under arrest. He confiscated my driver’s license, handcuffed me and placed me in his patrol car. He informed me that my vehicle would be towed and impounded because the location was not a safe place to leave it.

The relatively short ride from the highway to the County Jail in downtown Napa seemed to take forever. It took another hour to book me (there were several others ahead of me) and then I sat in a holding area – no shoes, belt or any of my possessions – for the mandatory four-hour hold. That mandatory hold is to make sure that my BAC had dropped to below the legal limit before they could release me. A lot of things went through my mind during that time – the most prominent thing I remember was disbelief – that this must be a bad dream.

I was released around 4 a.m. the next day. I could not get my vehicle out of the impound lot until after 8 a.m., so a friend picked me up and then took me down to the towing company a little more than four hours later. It was an expensive impound as it was a Saturday morning. Nearly $400 later, I was on my way home to Sonoma still in shock and disbelief, and with a pink “Administrative Per Se” temporary driver license in my wallet. But as that day went forward, I remember thinking how it could have been much worse – how I could have been in an accident and, God forbid, hurt someone.

I have been in and around the wine business for about 33 years. I’ve been driving for about 38 years. Over that time I’ve had a couple of moving violations and a few parking tickets but otherwise I’ve had a clean driving record and up until now considered myself a pretty good judge of my fitness to operate a motor vehicle. I remember actually being surprised when I saw the red and blue lights in my rear view mirror that night.

Since my arrest, I’ve had my arraignment before a judge in Napa County Criminal Court, where the charges were read and I was asked if I wanted to enter a plea or speak to an attorney. I chose the latter. Because the temporary license was only good for 30 days past the date of arrest, I applied for a hearing on that suspension with the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) – the net effect of that was an extension of that temporary license until the DMV could hold the hearing.

So what am I facing ultimately if I am convicted of a first-time DUI? The penalties include jail time, a stiff fine, license suspension (in addition to and separate from the DMV suspension), mandatory DUI education courses (also expensive) and probation. If I am convicted, that conviction will stay on my driving record for 10 years. My auto insurance rates also will take a significant jump. Also, I must stay squeaky clean in terms of driving with any alcohol in my system – you do not want to get a second DUI. The penalties are far more severe.

By the time you read this column, two things will most likely have happened. First, I will have begun the DMV-imposed license suspension. That is a four-month suspension with the first 30 days being a “hard suspension” – meaning I will not have the legal ability to drive anywhere for any reason. I will be eligible to apply for a restricted license after that first 30 days. Meanwhile, Vern’s Taxi will have a regular customer and I will be doing a lot of walking. The second thing that will likely have happened is that I will have had my second court appearance and will have entered a plea. From there, depending on the plea, I will either be sentenced or a trial date will be set.

So why do I tell you all of this in such a public forum? For those of you who have not been through this – who feel you’ve been “lucky” or “dodged the bullet,” this is not the same as getting a speeding ticket, believe me. You do not want to go through this. It is a huge burden on you and your family. If you’ve been drinking, take a taxi. Ask for a ride. Don’t drive. And for God’s sake talk to your kids about this stuff; they need you to set a strong example on this.

Now that I have been through it, I never, ever want to do it again. It has been a serious wakeup call for me. Although the memory and the consequences will fade with time, this experience has changed my life, that’s for sure.”

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Highway Robbery Reported

Fri, 25 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I confess to just a bit of economic paranoia born of the Great Recession, but when dining out and choosing a wine, I keep feeling like my pocket is being picked, and I keep reaching for my wallet to make sure that it is still there.

Wine and food is my profession and my passion. I very much enjoy visiting new restaurants, and I do it frequently, but I am more apt these days to try a glass of this or that rather than springing for a whole bottle but for those times when I spot an especially good value. I am always on the look for something new and interesting, but I have become less adventuresome when adventure comes at considerable cost.

Earlier this month when sharing my thoughts on what and what does not a good wine list make, I mentioned my nagging sense that restaurant mark-ups on wine have been on the rise in recent years disproportionate to their general retail prices.

Well, it seems that I am not alone, and apparently my concerns come with real justification. Yesterday on the Enobytes website, Jeffrey L. Lamy offered a thoughtful and significant analysis of restaurant wine-pricing trends over the last dozen years, and I enthusiastically recommend that all those who suffer with my afflictions for fine dining and good wine give it a long look. *

In brief, Mr. Lamy makes a convincing case that wine prices in restaurants are, in his words, “outrageous.” He concludes after a concise presentation of comparative data that:

“All of the restaurateurs’ protestations notwithstanding, it is apparent to this analyst that most restaurants are pursuing a very devious pricing strategy. On one hand, they are holding food item pricing down so as not to discourage patrons from returning to their establishments. On the other hand, they are relying on exorbitant wine pricing to make up the difference in order to produce an acceptable overall profit.

The practice stinks! It leaves wineries with a black eye. And, it detracts from wine consumer adventurism in trying new wines.”

Now, wine has long been a significant revenue stream for restaurants, maybe the most significant one, in fact, but the rise in restaurant wine prices relative to winery FOB and wholesale cost over the same period of time is alarming. I know that I have a hard time considering wines priced at three and four times retail just for the privilege of drinking them at a restaurant, and no windy rationalizations about service cost, inventory or glassware will change my mind. If restaurants must pay ever more attention to keeping their fiscal ships afloat, so too does the average consumer, and I believe the latter is not a fool.

I would encourage those of a similar mind to Mr. Lamy’s and mine to do a little homework before heading out for a night on the town. Because of what I do for a living, I am quite attuned to what a wine really costs, but those who are not can learn a good deal from a few minutes on line. A good many restaurant websites provide links to their wine list, and it is not a bad idea to pick out several of their selections and follow with a few googling clicks to see just what those bottles might cost from your favorite retailer. It will not take long to get a sense of just how the restaurant views value.

There are plenty of fine restaurants that do, in fact, make painstaking efforts to find that right bottle at the right price, and there are some whose food is just so damned good that I am willing to put up with being fleeced, but I have grown weary of pricey wines that are no better than boring, and I am far from being alone.

* http://enobytes.com/2012/05/24/restaurant-wine-prices/

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thoughts
The Anderson Valley Pinot Noir Festival: A Report

Thu, 24 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

A Guest Report by Norman Roby

Too bad you couldn’t make it to the Pinot Noir Festival in Anderson Valley last weekend. It is one of those rare opportunities when both the winemakers based in the Valley and those outsiders making Pinots from the region get together to show their wines. For the rest of the year, they tend to keep to themselves and do their own thing.

News trickles out, usually long after the fact as Anderson Valley winemakers tend to focus on making wines, not headlines. Because I live a relatively short thirty-minute drive away, I pass through the Anderson Valley frequently, visit wineries often, and am in contact with winemakers during the year through my involvement with the annual charity auction, Winesong. But despite all of this, I learn a lot each year at the Pinot Noir Festival. This time around, I am happy to share my observations on what went on and offer my take on trends and highlights.

Among newsy stuff, the Edmeades winery has been reinvented by the Jackson Family as a Pinot Noir specialist, under the “Champ de Rêves” (Field of Dreams) name. It was not long after Jess Jackson passed away that locals noted vineyards for sale were being checked by Jackson Family reps. Barbera Banke, Jess’ wife, is said to be behind the revival, and now the family owns four blocks of high elevation vineyards known collectively as “Boone Ridge.”

The debut Pinot, the 2010 Champ de Rêves, is an excellent beginning. As I learned over the weekend, the 2010 vintage is one to watch carefully as a big, rich, but not over-ripe year with plenty of supporting acidity. Since 2009 was also above average, the Anderson Valley Pinot folks now have two consecutive vintages to help them and everyone else forget about the smoke-plagued 2008 Pinots. I’m certain there’s a word in Bootling, the local patois, for bad luck and being totally screwed by Mother Nature, but as a “Fogeater” (coastal resident) I’m not aware of it.

Champ de Rêves is not alone as a new kid in the Anderson Valley neighborhood. With 8 acres planted in 1998 in Philo, Balo Vineyard also debuted with its 2010. Jason Drew is the winemaker getting Balo smoothly off the starting blocks. Fulcrum produced its 2010 Pinot from the Londer Vineyard, and the winemaker did justice to that established site too.

Twomey, Silver Oak’s sister, seems poised to become a major player. Harvesting fruit from three of the finest vineyards—Ferrington, Savoy, and Monument Tree (which I believe it owns) Twomey showed a lovely 2009 and a lovelier, deeper 2010. The fact that 1,853 cases (copious for the region) of 2010 Twomey Pinot will be available makes this a story well-worth sharing.

Then there was the new Pinot Noir from “Walt.” That’s right, simply labeled “Walt.” That sounds about as low-budget as a wine named “Charlie” or, worse yet, “Norm.” But it turns out that Walt is the family name of Kathryn Hall. Best known for its Cabernet Sauvignons, her Hall winery in Napa needs no backgrounder or introduction here.

“Walt” is a partnership between Hall and Roger and Richard Rosseler whose family has been sourcing Pinot for years from all of the esoteric sites along the West Coast. Rosseler’s own “Hein Vineyard” located in the “Deep End” of the Anderson Valley provides fruit for one of three 2010 Walt Pinots from Anderson Valley. This one had a slightly closed-in nose, but the texture was silky smooth and the flavours right on target. The Walt Pinot that had everybody talking was the 2010 “The Corners,” a vineyard that looks directly down on the Fairgrounds in Boonville. This show-stopping Pinot is rich with explosive flavors and, well, it has it all. The third Pinot which wasn’t available for tasting is “Blue Jay,” a blend of several vineyards.

Ambitious enough to warrant a digression here, Walt’s gameplan is to focus on Pinot Noir from four regions: Sonoma, Santa Rita Hills, Willamette Valley, and Anderson Valley. The Sonoma Pinots originate from the Sonoma Coast and Russian River Valley. All told, in 2010 Walt bottled 12 Pinot Noirs with quantities ranging from 68 cases to just over 1,000 and retail prices in the $50-$70 range.

What’s interesting is that with practically unlimited resources, the Walt team considers the Anderson Valley as one of “four legendary appellations” for Pinot. Nothing from Napa, no mention of the Carneros or Santa Lucia Highlands.

While “legendary” is a little over the top language, the Anderson Valley has definitely gotten its Pinot Noir act together and deserves to be upgraded. Goldeneye has brought national attention to the region and has helped raise the bar, but today, it faces some tough, friendly competition. Williams Selyem’s 09 Ferrington Vineyard, Copain’s 09 Monument Tree Vineyard, Breggo’s 09 Savoy, Saintsbury’s 09 Cerise Vineyard, the 09 Expression 39 (Bill Hill redux), and Londer’s 09 are all first-class Pinots by any standard. However, my personal favorite was Goldeneye’s 09 “Gowan CreekVineyard.” It is the complete Pinot package, and one for the cellar. But I would easily settle for any of the others listed here.

And that’s the difference today: it is now difficult looking over Pinots from two fine vintages to find a cut-off point in a list of Anderson Valley favorites. I have yet to mention the likes of truly fine Pinots from Lazy Creek, Lula Cellars, Foursight, Handley’s RSM Vineyard, Black Kite, and Claudia Springs. Littorai might have made my list, but after trying several times to sample the latest Pinots, I couldn’t get through the pushy crowd trying to get on that winery’s mailing list. Arista, which has been favorably reviewed in Connoisseurs’ Guide, was not at the Festival.

But it is also reassuring to see some things haven’t changed. Navarro Vineyards maintains its “good value” label by pricing its top-end “Methode a la Anciene” under

$30. And Alan Green of Greenwood Ridge still retains a boyish sense of humor. At the Festival, he announced that after 30 years he is releasing his first “Hundred Point” wine. The 2010, he says, is “named after a rocky promontory on the coast where legend has it, one hundred ships were wrecked” on the point.

And if you swallow that one...maybe on your next trip you should consider heading to Philo to tour the Marijuana Museum and check out The Rock Shop.

Norman Roby has been a friend of Connoisseurs’ Guide for too many years to mention. Not only did he guide the production of our very first book back in the 1970s and sit on our tasting panels, but he preceded Steve Eliot as Wine Instruction functionary at the California Culinary Academy, and spent several decades writing in Vintage Magazine and Decanter.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
Great Wines Lists in Unexpected Places

Wed, 23 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

I can still remember a time when finding a restaurant with an even passably interesting wine list was no easy task, much like the hunt for a place with genuine espresso machine. Happily, it now seems that the latter is easily found on three street corners out of four, and friendly, functional wine lists are the norm rather than being the exception. Some, of course, are better than others, and, while, I freely confess to seeking out those of extraordinary breadth, I admit to special delight when finding a very good glass in the least likely of places.

I was on the road to Los Angeles last week to participate in this year’s Los Angeles International Wine Competition and encountered more than a few memorable menus backed up by smart, well-chosen lists. Of particular note were the appellation-centric list of Paso Roble’s first-rate Artisan Restaurant and that of Pizzeria Mozza in Los Angeles, each of which eateries come, by the way, with an enthusiastic “must try” recommendation, but the one I will remember with the biggest smile of them all was found on the wall at Philippe The Original just across from Union Station in downtown LA.

For those of you who may not yet know, Philippe’s is the creator and home of the French Dip Beef Sandwich. Except for plenty of bright neon lighting, little inside of the place seems to have changed in the 100-plus years of its existence. There is sawdust on the floor, high-backed wooden booths from decades long passed and large jars of pickled eggs on counters where long lines of hungry, French-dip devotees patiently wait for a one-of-a kind treat. The place is loud, and it is busy in the way that reminds of the trading floor at a major stock exchange. It is also very good, and it is a regular lunch stop on my infrequent visits to Southern California.

Last Sunday, we pulled in for a quick bite before heading up north on I-5, and as I placed my order for a roasted beef sandwich au jus, I looked up and found to my great surprise a large board listing the day’s selection of wines by the glass. Now, my criteria for real wine-list success is value, quality and a selection sufficiently broad to offer both adventure and comfort, and, if Philippe’s listing of fifteen wines was not comprehensive, it more than made up in the first two for what it may have lacked in the last. Frankly, I had just been hoping that maybe I might be able to have a beer with my lunch, but faced with such choices as Pine Ridge Carneros Chardonnay for $6.00 a glass, Duckhorn Sauvignon Blanc and Frog’s Leap Merlot for $7.00, Merry Edwards’s delicious Russian River Valley Pinot Noir for $9.00 and the Silver Oak Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon for $12.00, something vinous became the obvious choice.

Surprise and discovery keeps what we do still exciting after all these years. It may come by way of a great old bottle tucked away in the cellar or by a significant new talent, and sometimes it comes, as it did last Sunday afternoon, in finding just the right thing in just the right place when you least expected it.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
Wine Ratings: Bad Science or Good Guess?

Tue, 22 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Let’s do this backwards and jump to the conclusion. Wine Ratings are not science at all. They never were and never will be. No one who issues wine ratings would ever call them science.

Can we have a show of hands, please? How many people reading these words think that movie reviews are science? How many here think that restaurant reviews are science?

Okay, you get the picture—so no need to prolong the agony. Reviews that rely on subjective reactions to any sort of highly variable product or production, whether ballet or sculpture or rhythmic gymnastics or perfume, are by their very nature not the least bit scientific.

But those who then dismiss learned ratings because they are not scientific also dismiss the very essence of humanity. Humans are not automatons responding to fixed stimuli. We do not ask wine to have a static level of acidity or alcohol or time in oak. We rejoice in the thousand flowers approach to food, to figure skating competitions, to dresses on the red carpet, to the making of Cabernet Sauvignon.

Convincing evidence of our reliance on the subjective judgment of man is found every day in the thousands of words that consumers seek out to help them wade through the massive array of choices they face. Even automobile reviews, which do have at least a scintilla or two of science attached to them, are nevertheless also highly judgmental. That is why my new favorite car, the Audi A7, can be reviewed like it was manna from heaven by one reviewer and the next will advise that people should buy the Audi A6 at thousands and thousands of dollars and one sloped roof less.

Wine reviews are not bad science because they are not science. However, at their best, they are products of the rigorous methodology that looks to “scientific method” for guidance in reaching conclusions. Since there is no “proof” possible in critique of various art and craft activities, there is only thoughtful “findings” based on careful observation and comparison to known standards of judgment.

Therein lies the rub. Even wine critiques, who might universally agree about the character of Cabernet Sauvignon in the abstract, will not necessarily agree with each other when it comes to the evaluation of a specific bottle of wine. Indeed, individuals are known to disagree with themselves. The San Francisco Chronicle’s recent article focusing on 2009 Napa Valley Cabernets came up with recommendations across a wide spectrum of styles, including extra ripe, heavily extracted wines of the very type that its wine editor has preached against on other occasions.

I see this as no sin. We think we have established parameters like alcohol content as useful determinants, and we argue for lowered ripeness, for higher natural acidities and for the green potential that can be delivered by picking Cab earlier than is the current practice these days for most wineries both here and in France. And then, whether Connoisseurs’ Guide or the San Francisco Chronicle, we taste blind and chose wines like the 2009 Chappellet Pritchard Hill bottling that show a stated alcohol of 15.1% on its label. We make choices like that because our palates, our learned palates that have tasted hundreds, indeed thousands, of Cabernets from several continents and seemingly settled on an array preferred passages to greatness in Cabernet, tell us whether a wine rates highly or not based on the way it tastes, feels, finishes, can age where appropriate. Theoretical constucts are fine. Blind tasting is the ultimate testing ground.

Those kinds of judgments we derive, no matter how carefully reached, are not scientific. They are learned appraisals. They counter the argument, the nonsensical argument, that wine cannot be judged. It can be judged. It is judged by every person who comes in contact with it and cares about its quality. That judges of wine can disagree is fundamental to the human condition. Those disagreements do not deny the rigorous methodology employed by most respected wine critics, nor do they deny the validity of the results proffered by critics who disagree with each other at times.

That Jon Bonne and I agree about the Chappellet wine does not make our conclusions absolute nor mandate that we will agree in the future. Nor will a similar set of conclusions offered by the next three or five or fifty critics of that wine. We will never reach the level of scientific proof. We will have to settle, instead, for agreement.

And you, dear reader, will have to settle for that as well, no matter how often you hear that wine ratings are not scientific—and thus not worthy of being trusted, you will have to either stop reading wine reviews or accept that they are the best efforts of critics who, for the most part, know whereof they speak.

A good wine review is an opinion. It is a learned opinion based on observation and experience, but it is still an opinion. It may not be science, but it is far more useful and reliable than a good guess.

Meet the New CGCW

Monday Manifestos
One Hundred Wines a Day? I Survived My Trip to Los Angeles

Mon, 21 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

It’s been a very long time since I have participated in large-scale wine judgings, and I had pretty much sworn off such events as being a waste of my time and of little or no real benefit to consumers. Still, when invited to participate in what is by all accounts the oldest and largest event of its type, I decided to give it a go after a hiatus of many years, and, two days and a couple of hundred wines into this year’s Los Angeles International Wine & Spirits Competition, I confess to some grudging respect for the event.

I accepted the invitation out of benign curiosity more than anything else. Call my interest academic, that of someone who tastes and evaluates wines professionally on an almost daily basis with a very specific methodology. The efficacies of methodology were not on my mind, although I did wince a bit at the thought of a hundred wines a day, and my attendance was not motivated by the intent to write an inside exposé. I just felt that it was time to see how the culture of wine competitions has evolved, and where better than with the event claimed by many to be the best.

Now, please understand that conscientiously judging a great many wines is not all that easy, and any such forum requires that the participants recognize and respect what is sometimes very diverse opinion. I remember a good many such gatherings in the past to be the battle grounds of strong-willed egos with more hubris than knowledge, and I recall sponsors relentlessly pushing for so many medal winners that in the end anything less than gold was considered close to an insult. I did and still do believe that most any winery in search of a medal should have no problem in finding one given the astonishing proliferation of such competitions and the mind-numbing amount of medals that they manage to churn out, and that in the world of independent wine criticism, such medals hold little value.

But, and this is a big but, those same medals comfortably afford the average consumer with some quality reference in much the way that stars, points and lengthy descriptive tasting note do to more-devoted enthusiasts. They may not be absolute, and they may not come with the force of guarantee, but they do at least help make sense out of what has become an intimidating and confusing array of thousands and thousands of wines from which the poor consumer must choose. Just as is the case with independent critics, wine competitions are not all the same, and their prestige will and should ebb and flow depending on just how much sense the consumer finds in what they say.

And so I find myself defending medals when I have been less inclined to do so in the past. I have spent several days here with a very competent, highly professional bunch. While very aware that the point of the gathering is, in fact, to award a high number of medals, never once was I so much as even gently pushed to change my opinions or standards. The atmosphere has been collegial and contentiousness rare, and I must offer a tip of the CGCW hat to the hard-working administrators who have taken on and succeeded with the mind-boggling organization of such a large-scale event.

I would even go so far as to say this has been fun, and I’ll be a little sorry when the proceedings come to a close tomorrow. I also confess to being fairly tired. I look forward to a few days of rest and then its back to the CGCW table where a day’s work will be sixteen wines treated comprehensively rather than one-hundred wines judged rather more quickly.

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thorns
“Terroir Is Utter Bullshit”

Thu, 17 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Note the quotation marks please. While I like the argument, it contains, in itself, as much B. S. as it is claiming to debunk.

The other day, in the Telegraph, an English paper of note, a wine columnist penned the following, complete with the quote above.

‘Terroir’ means nothing

“Wine’s current war of liberation (as the romantic school of oenology likes to see it) is being fought against an establishment steeped in ancient, but frequently suspect, nostrums.

“A favourite one is the French concept of “terroir” which roughly translates as “sense of place”. The basic shtick is that grapes growing on a picturesque slope beside, say, the River Saône, will taste detectably different from those growing a quarter of a mile away, let alone in Chile or Bulgaria.

“Viticulturalists increasingly regard this not only as bunkum, but as a cover-up for bad wine making. What really matters is the quality of the grapes and the skill of the winemaker. The terroir myth has, nevertheless, worked astonishingly well to maintain the perceived specialness of traditional wine areas. Now its credibility is collapsing: “Terroir,” says the wine writer Malcolm Gluck, “is utter b-------.”

OK, I will admit that I got a little kick out of those intemperate remarks. Took me straight back to my college days, about 2:30 in the morning, after too many hours of studying and several more hours of drinking and talking ourselves blue in the face until we solved the problems of the world. Until the next morning when we realized how silly we sounded with too little sleep and too much beer and wine.

Here is the crux of the problem. On the one hand, the terroirists insist that the “sense of place” notion is the single most important measure that a taster can bring to a wine. Never mind that little things like picking dates, fermentation temperatures, aging regimen, yeast choice and many other variables can all conspire to make grapes from the same vineyard be unidentifiable as siblings after the winemakers have worked their magic.

Still, there is a sense of place to many wines, and it is identifiable to some degree by those familiar with what those places can contribute when they do make those contributions. Russian River Pinot Noir, for example, can deliver the most delightful, clear and pure fruit redolent of cherries with hints of dried flowers. We can often pick out those wines in our blind tastings. The same can be said for West Rutherford Bench Cabernet Sauvignon, for Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel and for western Sonoma Chardonnay—just to name several obvious examples.

On the other side of the coin, it is also true, as the second paragraph of the quote seems to opine without quite saying so, that the grape itself lends a fair bit of identifiable character to well-made wine whether we are talking about Cabs from Rutherford or Bordeaux’s Left Bank, whether we are talking about Chardonnay from Sebastopol or Burgundy, and so on and so on. You get the picture. A well-made Sauvignon Blanc may range from grassy to melony but whether from Western Australia or Washington, Santa Barbara or Sancerre, well-made examples speak to variety.

Terroir absolutists disagree, of course, as to do the “strict varietal character” posse members. And what is perhaps the ultimate irony is that they are both right and not right at all. Terroir does exist. It is not bunkum. Terroir adherence is a fine measure of a wine, but it is not the only measure. Varietal character is varietal character in virtually all wines, yet terroir adds its own notes to the wine’s song. And, if one will admit the truth, attractive wines need not have either terroir adherence or varietal persuasiveness to be good.

Tasting good is yet another measure entirely. A blended Pinot Noir from several appellations with a bit of Petite Sirah for structure may not be identifiable either as to grape or to place. But, if it tastes good, where’s the harm?

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
Chenin Blanc vs Riesling—And Other Random Thoughts

Tue, 15 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Hello to all you mothers out there who make your day into such a fine wine day. If there is ever a day when an aromatic white is in order, it is a sunny, breezy Sunday afternoon when we get together with several generations of mothers in several venues from brunch to dinner with a stop in between. And truth be told, we did enjoy a fair number of well-chosen whites on the day.

I must admit my bias upfront for Riesling as the bright and easy to like white of choice for this special day. But, having come back from the Loire Valley just a week ago, I also took along a few choice Chenin Blancs—of the dry persuasion mostly, and kind of had my own personal taste-off.

The Rieslings still lead the pack for me if I have to choose one variety. Nothing wrong with a good, off-dry Vouvray, but frankly, Riesling does off-dry a little better. On the other hand, the bone-dry Rieslings left me cold (no pun intended). Crisp they were, but less than pretty and a touch green and angular for their sins. The dry Chenins seem to wear their brightness and acidity a little better and to hang onto their aromatic sides more clearly. Took along a couple of fairly sweet wines, and here I will admit to a bit of a surprise. Loved the Riesling, but found a sturdier glory in the sweet, grapefruity, pineapply, ripe pear flavors of the sweet Vouvray.

I am tempted to declare a draw here, but that is really not fair. Each variety has its own unique charms, and while I have been remiss in not paying enough attention to well-made Chenins, I have to side with Chenin as the star of the day if only because it was like a visit with an old and long-lost friend.

Random Thoughts
--The auction firm, Sotheby’s, has commissioned its own house Champagne which it will sell not just to the “swells” attending its auctions of the good and the fancy, but will offer online as well to all comers. Now, I get why restaurants and grocery stores may want their own privately branded merchandise, but an auction house going into the wine business seems a bit of a stretch. What’s next? Bentley and Rolls Royce dealers? Tiffany’s?

--Decanter Magazine, my choice for the top slick paper wine magazine in existence, is in the midst of running a poll for its readers about the so-called “natural wines”. In its own little bit of irony, Decanter wants to know if wine labels, including those who would brand themselves as “natural”, should disclose what is really in the wine. It has created a poll for its readers that includes the following choice: “(b) No, it’s just a bunch of hippies spouting health and safety rubbish”.

--From the “I could not make this up if I tried” file comes this press release for a new winery in the Napa Valley:

“Frenchie Winery, named for and inspired by Raymond Vineyards Proprietor Jean-Charles Boisset's French bulldog, debuted on May 9. "Frenchie was a gift to my beloved wife," Boisset said, "to ensure that she would always be in the company of a French gentleman."

“Frenchie Winery wants to ensure that canines are well taken care. Frenchie Winery is the only tasting room in the world designed exclusively for dogs, including a special dog-friendly tasting bar”.

I wonder why Connoisseurs’ Guide was not invited to the Grand Opening. We could have borrowed my daughter’ dog, Cody Ross, a Springer Spaniel named for the baseball player, for the event. Now that his namesake is no longer with the San Francisco Giants, Cody the dog is no longer in demand on game days in these parts.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Santa Rita Hills Pinot Noir: “More Is More” or “Less Is More”. A Debate.

Fri, 11 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

It is more than a little fascinating to see the difference in winemakers’ perspectives and conclusions when viewing the same picture. A couple of winemaker interviews by Blake Gray over the last couple of weeks caught my eye, and they reveal two different and intriguing views about preferred style and winemaker rationale doing what they do. A peripatetic pair of Pinot Noir winemakers, Adam Lee of Siduri and Sashi Moorman of Evening Land, Sandhi, Peidrassa and Stolpmann spoke, and Pinot Noir was the topic.

Now, Mr. Moorman has a very clear idea what he wants in a wine and definitively talks of complexity that is apparently only born of lower ripeness and less alcohol. He very curiously seems to find complexity and what he calls “deliciousness” as somewhat antithetical. He likens grapes to peaches and strawberries and argues that extra ripeness will make them more delicious but that the loss of certain “unripe elements” leaves the grapes and the resultant wine from which they are made less interesting. He is also very clearly far from being a fan of those “financially successful” producers who go for power and ripeness and, I presume, deliciousness, and he states rather matter of factly in his championing of the Santa Rita Hills as a unique enclave for elegant Pinot that “you can make opulent wines anywhere”. I confess to very much liking some of Sashi’s Pinots, most notably his 2009s under the Evening Land label, and to me they are delicious and not in the least green. I have also from time to time enjoyed the very rich wines of Sea Smoke, that very same financially successful estate that Moorman does not revere.

Adam Lee, on the other hand, is far more circumspect in his opinions about style. He may or may not have a preference for just how Pinot should taste, but he declines to state it and instead believes that it is ultimately up to the grapes to dictate style as opposed to the winemaker’s hand. He offers up the rather startling observation that he is less concerned with adhering to a fixed stylistic model than he was in the past and that allowing a vineyard to express itself in any given vintage is now his aim. Ripeness and/or alcohol are not inherently good or bad, the health and balance of the grape is the key. When queried about the Santa Rita Hills, he lacked Mr. Moormon’s unquestioning evangelism and warned of difficult tannins in grapes that were less than fully ripe. Given the success of the brilliant 2009 Siduri Pinot from the Clos Pepe Vineyard, Adam apparently knows something about the appellation as well.

Now it may be that the Santa Rita Hills has enough varying circumstance as to defy the notion of any singular style as best, and it may simply be that there is the potential for a good many successful variations on the Pinot Noir theme. Is the potential for Santa Rita Hills Pinot entirely dependent on lower alcohol wines? Are those that achieve higher ripeness and deliciousness failures? Can “delicious” and “complex” as defined by Moorman find peaceful coexistence in the same place. These are questions being asked in a good many of California’s fine wine regions these days. I, for one, am tired of bi-polar conflict and am ready for detente between the more-is-more and less-is-more crowds.

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thorns
How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Blog

Thu, 10 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Doctor Strangepalate

I once thought that social media was a hoax. Then I learned how to get my own Twitter account, to set up not one but two Facebook sites and somehow got roped into LinkedIn. Oh, and along the way, I established this blog.

Truth be told, I did not believe in any of it. Not even after seeing the Facebook movie set in Cambridge, the very town where I grew up, hung out, learned to drink, somehow managed to sneak into the local college and then fled from that esteemed locale for what was supposed to be a two-year gig on the left coast—from which I have not yet returned after all these years.

It was a dark and stormy day in San Francisco when I was challenged by some young, hip kid to discover social media. Get thyself online and set yourself free. Think of all the friends you will make. Think of all the new readers you will find. Think about emerging from the old media that has held you captive for three decades and breathe the fresh air of the Internet 2.0.

Okay, you hip kid, I have done it. So why does my knee ache from a half hour of softball with the grandkids and Twitter make me feel like I am cheating when I condense complex thoughts into 140 characters? Don’t get me wrong. I like Twitter. I wrote hundreds of tweets to be read by hundreds, no make that thousands of fellow twits. But it was all so incomplete. I get a string of inane thirty-word comments every day, and, between you, me and the hard drive, barely a handful have any meaning.

Oh sure, mine are different. Whole blogs topics condensed into the equivalent of a Ritz cracker. Pleadings for folks to come read my writings. Impossible discussions with folks who are not listening and get angry if their thirty-word summaries are contradicted by my thirty-word summaries. I like Twitter. But it suffers from what Yogi Berra once said of a very popular restaurant in New York City, “It has become so popular, nobody goes there anymore”. Or to put it more succinctly, despite the constant barrage of words and the presence of many good and thoughtful people on Twitter, I don’t go there anymore.

I do understand. My kids love social media. Why call when a text will do? Let’s tell the whole world about everything going on in their lives on their Facebook pages. Really, I do understand. I am too old to be hip. I keep getting reminded of that fact when I see, or worse yet, attend concerts by singers I liked decades ago. It is not that they have no hair or are paunchy. They can’t sing anymore. The music is the same, the words are the same. Their voices are no longer hip. I’m not sure I was ever hip. I know I am not now.

But, there is one part of social media that I love—and that is this blog. It turns out that Mr. Old Folks has a lot to say, has lots of opinions to share and just loves having a place to share them. Writing is work, and writing a blog is no different from any other kind of writing if one wants to be smart, cogent, grammatical and all those other things that good writing should be. I like to think that the CGCW blog, whatever else it may be, and Lord knows that it has not become nearly so popular as the blogs of folks like Steve Heimoff, Alder Yarrow and so many others in the wine arena, is “smart” most of the time.

Steve Eliot and I think about the issues confronting the wine industry. We challenge ourselves and the people about whom we write, both positively and negatively, to think. No one has to agree. They only need to think.

I worried about social media. Now, I love it. I love ignoring my Facebook page and Twitter and I love the blog. Hurray for social media. It is so popular that no one goes there anymore. But here we all are—at least until the next big thing comes along.

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday Warblings
“You Taste Through Your Toes”

Wed, 09 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Someone must have said it first, but Google refuses tell me who. Whoever it was, I want to meet him and shake his hand. This wonderful insult, “You taste through your toes”, is hurled around our tastings as often as one of us needs taking down a peg. It is the ultimate insult among friends because it is both joke and dig at the same time. In our business, it helps to be able to do both.

I was tempted to dump this phrase into the conversations of wine tasting that have shown up recently in the blogs of Blake Gray over at The Gray Market Report (http://blog.wblakegray.com/) and Mike Dunne’s A Year In Wine (http://www.ayearinwine.com/). Both of these guys are seasoned professionals. They know their ways around, and if you have been paying attention to this blog, you have seen both post comments here in their efforts to keep us on the right path as they see it. And you will find my comments over on their blogs from time to time.

Both Blake and Mike were addressing the issue of differences of opinion in one judging and why it happens. They came at the topic from very different vantage points and were not necessarily trying to define the all reasons so much as exploring a couple of useful ideas.

Mike Dunne wondered about staying sober in the grueling, all day tastings that wine critics will sometimes allow themselves to get roped into. He mentioned that he can get through such events in relatively sober fashion but has seen judges who get “blotto”—to use his word. We see that same situation on rare occasion at Connoisseurs’ Guide’s tastings which are limited to just sixteen wines spread over three hours.

Some people think they are spitting out the wine, when, in fact, they are not. I would never accuse those folks of being too fond of the product, but the facts are that most of our tasters end the event with a fair accumulation of expectorated liquids in their expectorate collectors (known in the trade as “spit buckets”). Those who do not expectorate sufficiently wind up with far less liquid in the collectors and far too much liquid in themselves. Hence, the blotto factor.

A wine judge pretty much has two choices—spit it out or get pie-eyed (another term for blotto). And frankly, any wine taster who gets pie-eyed, blotto, stinko, plastered, hammered, tight or polluted is in the wrong business. Let’s leave it at that and wander over to Blake Gray’s world.

Blake is just back from Portugal where he chaired one of several panels at the Concours Mondial, Europe’s largest wine judging. Mr. Gray was wondering aloud about the difference in judging results between three and five member panels.

That is a fair question, and one that we wrestled with here at Connoisseurs’ Guide in our early years. At the outset, we tried to create tasting panels of eight to twelve people. We brought in learned tasters from all parts of the industry and had them taste wines blind and then discuss the results. We learned a lot, but what we also learned was that a smaller number of qualified professionals came up with the same results as our very large panels. We finally settled on five as the number of choice—not because it was magical but because it worked well.

But what we settled on that was even more important was the notion of knowledgeable tasters. The bottom line for us soon became the absolute demand that the tasters possess a body of knowledge of sufficient depth and range such that they could talk to each other. No such group of tasters agrees with each other all the time, but when the tasters come equipped with sufficient knowledge, good conclusions are possible most of the time. If they are not for a particular wine, we put the wine back into another tasting.

Blake Gray relates that his panel at the Concours Mondial gave no Gold Medals because it could not talk to each other. It was not that they all spoke different native languages. It was that they did not speak the same wine language. Blake did not offer that sentiment aloud, and I admit that I am adding my own interpretation based on my own experiences. I have tasted in such panels on four continents and with tasters from Australia, Argentina, Canada, England, France, Germany, Italy, New Zealand, Norway, South Africa and Spain. With few exceptions, we all spoke the same wine language and rarely had massive disagreements. It happens occasionally that a wine judge will simply not find common ground with the rest of the panel, and usually it is because that person was less well-schooled in wine than the assignment merited. Not their fault. They simply responded to an invitation. It happens at our tastings from time to time as well.

But, we rarely have the kinds of difficulties that Blake Gray experienced in his panel. Qualified wine judges find their ways to the “truth” because their palates know how to do it.

I no longer participate on those kinds of all day, several days back to back panels if I can help it, in part for the issues that both Mike and Blake have surfaced, but mostly because wine tasting for hours on end becomes grueling and takes the fun out being there for me. But, I respect people like Blake and Mike who do make themselves available to such events. They raise the level of professionalism and make good results possible. But only if they are joined by other professionals who also share a common tasting perspective and do not taste through their toes.

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday Tributes
Salmon: A Fish for All Wines

Tue, 08 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Is there a protein that is more generous in its ability to mate with a wide variety of wine? Maybe, but not many.

The hot topic in the local culinary world hereabouts is Salmon. The Northern California commercial season opened last week, and after several years of closures due to dwindling numbers and disappointingly scarce harvests, 2012 is shaping up as the best catch in years.

Among San Francisco Bay Area gourmands, the excitement is downright palpable, and I admit to getting a little excited myself. I simply never get tired of the stuff, and, despite being able to find outstanding farmed Salmon such as Framgord’s and Black Pearl from the Shetland Islands and Verlasso from Chile’s Patagonian Coast, I must cast my vote for fresh, local, wild-caught King Salmon as the best of them all.

Salmon has always struck me as both a phenomenally versatile ingredient when it comes to cooking method and extraordinarily wine-friendly regardless of how it is prepared. It can be sautéed and poached, roasted and grilled. It can be a revelation when simply smoked, it can be delicious when served raw, and its inherent richness invites service with a host of flavorful sauces.

It is not at all uncommon at Chez Eliot, for the evening meal to be inspired first by the wine, and, with the exception of the heaviest reds such as Syrah, Petite Sirah, late-harvest Zinfandel and highly extracted, heavily oaked Cabernet Sauvignons, it is not at all hard to find a fine vinous match to any of Salmon’s so many variations.

A sleek and lively Sauvignon Blanc plays a fine foil to simply sautéed fillets that are brightened with a squeeze of lemon, while recipes where Salmon comes napped in richer sauces show off flavorful Chardonnays at their best. Well-seasoned grilled Salmon steaks usually leave me waffling between those same Chardonnays and a firmly built Pinot Noir when it comes time to choose. The case has been made, and I agree, that fruity, well-balanced Zinfandel is a surprisingly affable partner, and, finally, I confess a real fondness for a glass or two of good sparkling wine with most any Salmon preparation, a Brut Rosé such as that from Roederer Estate or Schramsberg being right at the top of my list.

A quick search on Google will yield an absolute treasure trove of marvelous recipes and specific wine-pairing recommendations, but when Salmon is on the menu, know that but for high-tannin bruisers or syrupy sweets, bad wine matches are rare, and the options are endless. Sad to say, the local Salmon season, however, is not, and there is no time like the present to enjoy two of Northern California’s greatest gifts.

Addendum from Charles Olken: Two of my most enjoyable salmon and wine pairings would seem to defy Steve’s suggestions, and certainly surprised me. The first came on a trip to France, at lunch with the Comte Lur-Saluce, owner of Chateau d’Yquem (please pardon the name-dropping). We had two courses, the second being that uniquely French combination of foie gras and his own wine. But it was the first, a piece of poached salmon in a cream sauce served with a Doisy Daene Sauterne that added a new wine and food combo to the Olken household repertoire of fancy dishes.

And, some years later, on a command visit to the Cuvaison winery up in the Napa Valley, the managing editor, who summoned me to discuss to how to make CGCW into a better publication (more maps was his prescription), I was served a jerk-seasoned salmon filet sautéed in butter and accompanied by the winery’s surprising rich and accessible Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve.

That is why, if I were isolated on a desert island with only one protein, it would be salmon.

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Friday Fishwrap
Read On For Chardonnays That Please The Palate and The Wallet

Fri, 04 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Hey, it is oaky to like Chardonnay. (Bad pun intended).

California Chardonnay has suffered more than its fair share of attacks from the parroting “Anything but Chardonnay” crowd, and there are those who dismiss it with derisive snorts and sententiously call it “silly”. Funny thing though, it continues to command consumer attention at all price points in the market and remains the best selling white wine of them all. Ah, but what does the consumer know?

Sure, Chardonnay has become a commodity wine, and I would in no way extol the virtues of the cheap, mass-market bottlings that sell for a few dollars, but I am baffled at the persistence of the mind-numbing mantra of “too ripe, too oaky and too alcoholic.” Sometimes I wonder if Chardonnay’s too-many detractors actually taste much of the stuff.

We taste a lot, some thousand or so annually I’d guess, and, while not every example is a charmer, there is a wealth of remarkably good offerings made in a good many styles to be had. Yes, it is okay to like Chardonnay, and we do.

The last several vintages, 2009, 2010 and 2011, have been cool and quirky years hereabouts, and there is a seeming trend of late for local Chardonnays to be made in lighter and livelier versions. Whether due to stylistic intent or more simply the result of capable winemakers paying attention to what nature provides, the cause and dimensions of said trend are very much open to debate. It will be interesting to see if the sun returns in full force this coming Summer and Fall.

The simple truth, regardless of vintage, is that richness and balance are not antithetical, and our quintet of recent favorites from 2010 is proof enough of the fact.

J WINE COMPANY Russian River Valley 2010 $28.00 If the so-called "new paradigm" dictates acid instead of fruit and minerality instead of oak, this wine somehow manages to have feet in both camps and comes out very nicely made because it delivers at every level. Its early aromatic reserve leads to a second look that finds precise fruit sitting confidently in solid support of stony, spicy, chalky notes, and, on the palate, as the wine sits in your mouth, its full array of complex, deep and still nascent pieces becomes undeniably compelling. Despite its ability to charm now, it will grow for another year or two in bottle and will bring all of its parts into fuller view. Do lay a few bottles away.

SCOTT FAMILY Dijon Clone Arroyo Seco 2010 $25.00 This exceptionally well-made wine exhibits keen Chardonnay focus with excellent balance and depth rarely seen at the price. It is at once both substantial and vital with tremendous staying power on the palate, and its layered flavors build and build as they go. Its generous measure of sweet oak never threatens to overtake its incisive, long-lasting fruit, and it ranks among the very best Chardonnay values in today's marketplace.

McINTYRE Estate Santa Lucia Highlands 2010 $28.00 Complexing elements of roasted grains and buttered toast are attention-getting adjuncts to lots of concentrated, youthfully pert, apple-like fruit in the nose, and the wine follows suit on the palate with very vital young flavors that, while tasty, are still slightly tight and filled with potential. Ripeness is met by fine, firming acids, and the wine is as bright as it is rich, and it has all the right parts in place to impress even more as it unfolds over the next several years.

DAVIS BYNUM Russian River Valley 2010 $25.00 Without question the best Chardonnay to ever appear under this label, this one gets it right in terms of its keen fruity focus, its fine sense of balance and its oak and mineral extras, and all of its pieces are seamlessly fit. It is, withal, a complete package that manages to be both lively and fairly generous at the same time, and, while it should keep comfortably for several years, it is delicious right now. Its combination of quality and price are exemplary and earn it an added measure of attention.

VALLEY OF THE MOON Sonoma Coast 2010 $16.00 Straightforward fruit is the main theme of this nicely balanced middleweight, and, if never a Chardonnay of extravagance or head-turning depth, it is solidly on the varietal track. It exhibits elements of fresh apples, citrus and stones with a light overlay of sweet oak, and its finish is punctuated with a touch of lime. It will keep well for several years, but it is ready to go now.

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Thursday Thorns
It Is Time for Wine Lists to Serve Me—Not the Sommelier’s Ego

Thu, 03 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Say what you will about wine lists. If they are not balanced and fairly priced, I am not interested.

What is the best wine grape? Cabernet Sauvignon or Pinot Noir? Chardonnay or Riesling? Maybe Nebbiolo or, perhaps, Zinfandel? I expect that most any serious wine lover would, of course, scoff at the idea that one grape might stand out as superior to all others, so I am a little surprised at the increasing buzz lately that there might be a “best” format for restaurant wine lists.

Putting together a successful restaurant wine list is no easy thing. It takes knowledge of wine, a good culinary sense, a mind for business, a good dose of humility and the ability to really listen to what customers want. There has been a good deal of journalistic chatter on the topic of late, and there are as many opinions as to what a good wine list entails as there are bottles to chose from. And, as always, there seems an abiding need to be new and different.

The big story these days is “downsizing”. Wine lists, we are told, are too long and confusing, that it is simply impossible for the average wine drinker to comprehend a lengthy list. While I would not argue with the notion that there is an enormous amount of very good wine emanating from all over the world, I wonder if this new preoccupation with abridgement is not the result of recessionary economics rather than some sudden insight that was missed by sommeliers and restaurateurs for generations past. It may make good business sense for this or that restaurant, but please quit telling me it is for my own good.

Another complaint is that the usual organization of wine lists is archaic and inadequate to meet the needs and realities of the 21st century consumer. There are those such as the Wine Spectator’s Matt Kramer who argue that categorization by region or varietal or accepted definitions of style are no longer useful. While I do question the helpfulness of Matt’s suggestions that a wine list might be improved if arranged by elevation, vine age, climate or yield, I confess that neither specific organization nor number is my first concern when considering a new list. Categorize as you will, and I, the customer, will decide what works and what does not.

What I look for first from a good list is a balanced selection of wines that drink well with the restaurant’s menu. By balanced, I mean a good mix of well-known wines and those that might be regarded as esoteric. Some nights I am ready for adventure, and on some I would prefer the comfort of a trusted old friend.

I want to see some thought in pricing as well, and that includes wines at a range of price points and prices that are not extravagantly inflated. I remember many years back when restaurant wine prices were ridiculously high, and I remember a subsequent period when prices seemed to ease. Now, maybe it is just me, but it seems that there has been a trend for higher mark-ups for the last half-dozen or so years after a time of more modest profit taking. I always cautioned my culinary students that their customers were a savvy lot and should not be underestimated. Most restaurant patrons who are regular wine drinkers consume wine at home, and they are not fools as to how much something really costs.

I am always on the look for a thoughtful selection of wines by the glass, and I especially like the practice of offering a “flight” of small pours as an affordable way to try several new wines with a dish. I do confess to particular annoyance, by the way, when a wine by the glass is priced such that a single serving has covered the restaurateur’s cost for the bottle.

I recently stumbled across a new website that addresses the concerns of wine-loving restaurant goers. Started last September and still in its adolescence, Josh Moser’s VinoServant* is an ambitious undertaking to review restaurant wine lists with an emphasis on pricing, quality and where and for how much the wines can be found at retail. For now, its focus is limited to restaurants in the San Francisco Bay area, but it is a good start, and it fills a niche in much need of filling. I plan on checking in regularly, and I wish him the best.

* http://vinoservant.com/2011/09/22/hello-world/

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Wednesday Warblings
Costco: Not Wine For Dummies

Wed, 02 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Some pundits would have you believe that Costco is no more than a cynical, know-nothing merchandiser that treats wine like it was toilet paper.

Remember the game “telephone”? The one we played around camp fires as kids where you would whisper a message or short story into the ear of the person next to you who would then relay it on to the next and so on. By the time it made a complete round, it emerged so warped from its initial version that it had become unrecognizable. I sometimes think of the populist world of social media and Everyman journalism as being little more than a 21st century version of the same.

This week, the latest tea-pot tempest in the wine blogosphere has been triggered by a CNBC story on the retailing giant Costco and its head wine buyer, Annette Alvarez-Peters *. Painted by Talia Baiocchi at the Eater ** as a soulless, corporate soldier who doesn’t think wine is different that toilet paper, Ms. Alvarez-Peters is accordingly dismissed as someone who is ignorant, insensitive and knows nothing about wine. Not surprisingly, a torrent of ruffled-feather commentary has followed on a host of various websites and blogs.

I am struck by vehemence and vitriol of the brouhaha, and would urge all those who are quick to form opinions about the story to actually watch the video in question rather reacting to what someone has written about what someone said who, it turns out, may or may not know what they are talking about. Judging from the intemperate rants and ravings and reactions out there, I wonder how many have.

The brief, six-minute video clip is an interesting one, and it is well worth watching by anyone interested in wine.

Now, I do not know and have not met Ms. Alvarez-Peters, but I simply cannot see how such damning conclusions can be drawn. What I see and hear is a fairly straightforward, unassuming, very professional individual who is concerned about quality and consumer need, and who very much wants to avoid the cult of personality and celebrity status. Rather than accepting the mantle of the “world’s most powerful wine buyer”, she regards herself simply as a Costco employee. Her offense, apparently, is that she ultimately views wine as a product like everything else in the Costco corporate culture.

Ignorant? I do not see it, and, in fact, she has studied in both the WSET and Master of Wine programs and, by the testimony of a good many well-qualified people that I do know who are actually in the business of fine wine, she is a conscientious, hard-working woman who very much knows her stuff.

Does she equate wine with toilet paper in specific terms? No. But, she does understand that the two are somewhat analogous in the Costco marketing model of finding out what the customer wants, buying it at a good price, and selling it. And, since Costco apparently annually sells enough of the latter to circle the planet 1200 times, that business model is hard to argue with.

Tom Wark, a man who has both a real respect and love for fine wine and very keen sense of what effective marketing is all about, sets forward the requirements for a good professional wine buyer as being, 1) knowledge of your customers' desires, 2) knowledge of the product, and 3) knowledge of buying and market trends. Of Ms. Alavarez-Peters, he says “she knows a good deal about what her customer base wants from the wine selection in her hundreds of Costco stores around the country and that this knowledge is far more important than possessing a reverence for wine.” ***

Now, Alvarez-Peters does not need my defense. She is a twenty-year veteran of Costco and has, since 2003, done what looks to me to be a pretty good job at getting good wines into the hands of interested consumers at a good price. In the CNBC piece, respected industry analyst, Jon Fredrikson, comments that Costco has had a significant influence on educating wine consumers and raising their consciousness and appreciation of higher-end wines.

In a world increasingly populated by precocious retailers, writers and sommeliers preoccupied about lecturing me about what NOT to drink, I frankly find some comfort in knowing that there are those who are still willing to listen to their clientele.

* http://video.cnbc.com/gallery/?video=3000084796&play=1
** http://eater.com/archives/2012/04/27/costcos-wine-buyer-doesnt-think-wine-is-different-than-toilet-paper.php#reader_comments
*** http://fermentation.typepad.com/fermentation/2012/04/costco-wine-shall-i-be-offended.html

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Monday Manifestos
Tasting Chenin Blanc In Its Natural State

Mon, 30 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I remember Chenin Blanc. It was a light, aromatic wine that we grew here in California. Sadly, not much of it is around.

Some folks made it dry, and some of those used a lot of oak with it as if they were making Chardonnay. Even those heavier efforts seemed to hold onto their light, attractive, Comice pear fruit. Others were making it in a slightly sweet style that was an easy sipper yet had the acidity to work with food.

Well, I found some the other day, but it was not in California. It was here in Loire Valley at the tiny, hands-on winery, Domaine de la Fontainerie, run by Catherine Dhoye-Deruet. It was clearly a family enterprise, but this enterprise is not measured in years but in centuries. Drawing from just 15 acres of grapes grown a sloping hillside immediately above the winery, Domaine de la Fontainerie has been in the family since 1712.

The vines are old and knarly, and the fermentation regimen is not a lot newer. It takes place in old barrels using natural yeasts. Most of the wine ferments to dryness but some, especially if picked later, will stop with some residual sugar left. The very cold cellar has something to do with it, of course, but so do the wild yeasts that are simply less efficient than today’s cultured, crafted strains.

The first wine poured was dry, fresh and alive. Its aromas of crisp pear and wild flowers were enough to bring a figurative tear to my eye as I recalled wines like it in California decades ago. We can make wines like this, but so much of the land that could do it is also suited for more expensive pursuits like Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Sparkling Wine grapes.

Of course, another reason why Domaine de la Fontainerie succeeds with wine like this and California does not is that the winery costs little to run and is able to do well while picking at yields one-third to one-half of the allowed limits. So, I am not holding my breath for a CA revival—just hoping for one.

In addition to this first wine, there are several others produced that do not make it to California. A pair of dry, oak-aged wines proved particularly instructive. The wine aged in older, but not neutral barrels, was thin and had a hard time wearing its oak well. But the wine aged in new barrels swallowed the oak, kept its fruit and bright acid front and center and showed added richness that filled the wine out and mellowed it in a way that, to me, brought the acidity into balance. Interestingly, these oak-aged wines are made with grapes chosen for the purpose, not because they are richer but because they are not.

The winery also produces several variations of sweet wines, although with little botrytis, thus they are simply left to hang longer. These were wonderfully well-drinking wines with pineappley acids played against pear and orange blossom flavors.

The final wine was a Chenin Blanc sparkling wine kept three years on the yeasts. It had aged very far past the candied simplicity of too many non-Champagne bubblies from France and showed strong autolysis and a fair degree of minerality and austerity played against a bit of richness.

California could make wines like these. I wish we would.

Domaine de la Fontainerie is imported into the United States by Beaune Imports, http://www.beauneimports.com/.

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Friday Fishwrap
Save Your Money—No Wine Is Worth More Than $25

Fri, 27 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

There supposedly knowledgeable folks who make that argument. I respectively disagree.

I have been in the business of wine for a very long time, and, in every venue in which I have worked from journalism to retail from restaurants to education, the issue of value has been a constant concern. What is a fair price for a bottle of wine? Just what is a wine worth? What ultimately determines the price of this or that bottle?

Jeff Miller’s recent thoughts shared on the Artisan Family of Wines website * reminded me that those questions, while as germane as ever, are simply impossible to answer.

Now, there are those such as Fred Franzia who proclaim that no wine is worth more than ten dollars a bottle, and barking bloggers abound who damn costly wines as creation of elitist critics. There are also plenty of folks who discover upon tasting a glass of Two-Buck Chuck from Trader Joe’s that just maybe you get what you pay for. Some would argue, as did Steve Heimoff in his eponymous blog last week **, that maybe you don’t always get what you pay for.

OK. Agreed. But you generally don’t get what you don’t pay for, at least when it comes to Cabernet and Pinot Noir. And, behind every musing is the notion of what is fair and what is not.

I am not so sure that “fair” is really germane to the discussion. We live in a free market, and, very arguably, it is the consumer that decides what is or is not a fair price. There are no fixed cost-versus-profit formulas of which I am aware that come with moral force.

I would not tell someone who derives enjoyment from a glass of Charles Shaw Merlot that they are wrong, and, I suppose I wish that my pursuit of vinous pleasure could be so cheaply satisfied. I would, however, find no agreement when that same individual called me an idiot for thinking that Joseph Phelps Insignia is a remarkable wine that just might be worth the price. I believe that there are a good many wineries that undervalue their wines just as there are many that seem intent on picking my pocket, but the market is the ultimate arbiter of real worth. Discovering a great value has always been as exciting for me as tasting the world’s finest wines, but that the latter may come with prohibitive prices in no way lessens my appreciation for what they are.

Yes, there are many costs of production, marketing and capital expense that must figure into any winemaker’s calculations in running a profitable business. There are, however, no guarantees nor should there be that a wine should sell for a particular price based on the cost to produce it. Some people make good business decisions and others do not, and the consumer is not there to pay for their mistakes.

On the other hand, fine wine, at least, has been justly called “art”, and with most any art, perception and appreciation have little to do with capital cost. Hmmm, just how much did the oil and canvas of Picasso’s Guernica really cost?

Within the realm of laissez faire economics, something is worth whatever the consumer is willing to pay for it, and informed consumers are not so easily deceived. I, for one, happen to believe that there are a lot of well-informed wine consumers out there, and that if beauty lies in the eye of the beholder so does relative worth. Maybe the market will decide that no Napa Cabernet or Côte d’Or Burgundy should cost more than $25.00, but I am not holding my breath.

* http://artisanfamilyofwines.com/blog/?p=1998
** http://www.steveheimoff.com/index.php/2012/04/16/with-cabernet-and-pinot-you-get-what-you-pay-for/

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Wednesday Warblings
Washington State Flexes Its Vinous Muscles--
and Strains a Few in Reaching to Pat Itself on the Back.

Wed, 25 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Washington State wines are the best in the United States, so claims Governor Stephanie Gregoire.

That Washington produces some very good wines is no surprise to West Coast wine lovers, and many believe them to be among the world’s finest, but a fascinating new economic impact study from the Washington State Wine Commission is turning heads with its revelatory report of just how much of the stuff the Evergreen State now makes. *

If still well behind that of California in sheer volume and overall dollar worth, the Washington wine industry leads the way among all other American wine-producing states, and its vinous value has more than trebled in the six years since the last economic assessment. And, there are reasons to believe that bigger things lie ahead in the very near future.

The wine press has lately been rife with concern over predicted shortfalls of premium wine grapes as the American economy finds a steadier footing and a new crop of wine drinkers enters the market. Chateau Ste. Michelle President and CEO, Ted Baseler, comments that the current rate of wine consumption in the United States is growing so fast as to predict serious shortages in as few as five years, and some observers worry openly and loudly about the potential for higher prices. While that is certainly likely in any supply-and-demand economy, you can bet that the wine industry will meet increased demand with more supply, and the folks up in Washington clearly believe, as do I, that they have the land and the people to do just that on every quality level.

Now, just a few days ago, the Associated Press reported that Washington’s Governor, Stephanie Gregoire, apparently made the bold claim that no other state can compete with Washington when it comes to quality wines and, during a trade mission to Europe, dismissed California with the pithy observation that “They make jug wine. We make fine wine.”

I have a great deal of respect for Washington wines and count the best of them such those from Eroica, Poet’s Leap, Quilceda Creek and Betz Family, to name but a few, as world-class bottlings in every regard. I also understand that Governor Gregoire’s enthusiastic endorsement, while genuine, is de rigueur for the office and was probably made with a bit of smile.

Still, in the friendly but competitive game of vinous poker, I would say to Ms. Gregoire, I’ll see your Wahluke Slope and Horse Heaven Hills and raise you a Rutherford, a Russian River Valley and a Santa Cruz Mountains. And, oh yes, I am fairly certain that the Pinot Noir producers of Oregon’s Willamette Valley are not about to throw in their cards and quit the game.

* http://www.washingtonwine.org/_assets/managed/files/14984_The%20Economic%20Impact%20of%20Washington%20State%20Wine%20and%20Grapes.pdf

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Tuesday Tributes
Greetings from Gate A-22

Tue, 24 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Travel broadens the mind and dulls the senses. It is eighteen hours since we left the house, and we are stuck here in Frankfurt airport enduring a four hour wait for our one hour trip to Paris. A couple of funny/strange things happened on the way here. the first was that we got lucky and wound up in first class on the United flight here. It was more fun than being in coach, but First Class ain't what it used to be. Or so I am told, having never been in that part of the airplane before.

Here is what I know. The wines are boring but better than coach. The food is better than coach if one reads the menu--Duck with a pomegranate glaze for me; filet mignon for Mrs. Olken. The duck, advertised as rare breast of, turned out to be overdone and smelled of liver. It was inedible. The steak was better. Mrs. Olken managed half of it before giving up. Airline food was never very good in my experience, but somehow I expected the first cabin to be better. On the other hand, the flight was made infinitely more interesting by the presence of Harvey Steiman (WS) sitting one row behind us. Both of us on our ways to Paris, and Harvey with a two-hour shorter layover. I guess it pays to work for a more powerful publication than Connoisseurs' Guide.

More later, especially if I run into Robert Parker.

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Monday Manifestos
A Green Blog—No Tree Harmed

Mon, 23 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

Well, yesterday was officially Earth Day, and I could not help but think about the growing and sometimes very silly discussions of “green” as applied to wine.*

Now, don’t get me wrong, I would not for a minute argue against, sustainable, low-impact farming and winemaking. To do otherwise would be like applauding Iran’s nuclear ambitions, finding virtue in high gas prices or condoning Secret Service high jinks in far-away places. That said, I am increasingly annoyed by the new acolytes of “green” who spend their too-few precious hours on earth worrying not only about wholly organic, certifiably sustainable, Demeter-blessed criteria, but also the absolute carbon footprint left by a bottle of good Cabernet.

I admit to having had a damn difficult time in trying to figure out just what “natural” wine really is, and now a new wrench is being thrown into the works insofar as how a wine gets to market. Apparently, that is something that should figure into my enjoyment of this or that bottle. It is enough to make me reach for something stronger than even an overripe Zinfandel.

I have heard the cries that we are drowning in an ocean of toxic, manipulated wines from cynical, out-for-the-buck winemakers that have no commitment to the vinous art and for whom “terroir” is meaningless. Now, there are those who would further make the health of the planet a critical concern in selecting just what I will pour for dinner. Heavy glass bottles are bad. Lighter plastic containers are good (really?) Land freight is bad; air freight is worse. Transport from vineyard to table by sailboat is better, and true “locavore” drinking is best...except, apparently in the minds of a goodly number of San Francisco sommeliers. I am a bit worried, however, that throughout each and every one of these arguments is a certain “guilty until proven innocent” mentality that seems to emanate from each new crop of philosophical crusaders.

Maybe it’s just me, but all of the arguments, from manipulative winemaking to destructive farming to environment-damaging shipping are framed in a way that suggests those who are doing the right thing are few yet represent a growing minority that will “redefine” how things should be done. If you are not mentioned among the elect, you perforce stand with the damned. It is the evangelist’s way.

I know a good many winemakers, and I know very few who are not conscientious and concerned about everything from the health of the land to that of those who enjoy their wines. Of them, I know very few who feel compelled to make a statement of the same and are instead foremost focused on the quality and style of what is in the bottle. The rest is a given, and I hope we are not entering an era where such commitment needs some sort of certifiable proof.

I may be naïve, but I do not happen to believe that modern winemaking has pushed us to the brink of ecological Armageddon. Good winemakers have always understood that real quality is born of attentive viticulture and viniculture, and, I believe, more do today that ever before. I do not understand the “doom is near” preaching that is lately so popular, unless of course, it is something that is redefining how wines are sold rather than how they are made.

* http://www.thedailymeal.com/green-wine-rise-taste-still-king-new-york-wine-professionals

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Friday
A Day In The Bizarre Life Of A Wine Critic -->

Fri, 20 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Wine criticism, like all subjective criticism, can be arcane at times and inconsistent despite best efforts. It produces no new products, advances few new understandings of the world and is entirely reactive rather than being proactive.

James Conaway, who made his wine bones with his earlier book, Napa, and has gone on to other writings about wine, including a soon to debut novel entitled “The Language of Cabernet”, recently described the evaluative side of wine writing, as “a bizarre profession”. I could argue with that if I wanted to, but all the defenses of wine criticism have been heard before, and I would need to argue that what I produce is not hyperinflated rhetoric but carefully researched, thoughtful commentary.

You have heard it before. No doubt, I will trod that ground again. But perhaps, a look at my “bizarre” life will at least shed some light on the topic. If you find my day to be bizarre, so be it. I find it to be work worth doing and thus worth the striving for excellence that I and everyone involved here at Connoisseurs’ Guide bring to our work.

Let’s take a normal tasting day. We taste most days at 10:30 AM. We used to taste only in the evenings, but, as the number of wines grew and grew and grew, we found that we were tasting most nights of the week and that began to get in the way of things like sleep and seeing the family.

So, most days, we now taste in the morning. We have a more or less set schedule that sees us visit the major reds every four months while taking on the whites as they accumulate in inventory. On a typical tasting day, I go into the cellar either the night before or first thing in the morning and choose sixteen wines to taste in two flights of eight. Wines are tasted by variety, by vintage and we attempt to get a swath of wines from various appellations and varying price levels while being careful not to allow size and richness to dominate less aggressively designed wines. In other words, there is care taken to get a reasonably competitive sample.

The wines come out of the cellar about two hours in advance, are wrapped in aluminum foil and lettered by the office staff and either put on the table to warm up to tasting temperature (mid-60s for us) if red or put in the fridge to cool down if white. We chill sparkling wine and aromatic whites a bit more than dry whites, but all whites are chilled because that is the way they are meant to be consumed. Indeed, a good winemaker considers how a wine will taste when appropriately chilled as part of his decision-making regimen.

When the wines get to the table, the tasters know only the variety and the vintage. And here is where the “bizarre” comes in. We are expected to bring knowledge of the variety to the tasting. We are expected to bring knowledge of the various locations where wine is grown. And we are expected, without knowing which wines are in front of us, to evaluate each against the standards that we have worked so hard to understand. We look deeply inside the wines and, despite not knowing whether we have Napa Valley or Edna Valley in the glass, we work to construct a description that is so precise that our readers will agree with that description an overwhelming majority of the time. Because, if they do not agree, they will not subscribe to our publication the next time a renewal letter comes around.

While we are not judging the wine against a specific terroir-driven standard, we do bring knowledge of how a grape performs across a variety of sites, both here in California and elsewhere around the world. In that sense, we bring to each tasting broad understandings about the range of possibilities. We can often guess the provenance of the wine blind, but that is not what blind tasting is about. It is about judging quality against both hedonistic and known performance standards.

There are some, and Mr. Conaway, despite his intimate knowledge of the industry is one, who think that wine writing is done to please the wineries. I suppose that some writers might feel that way, but most of them do not. It is not the wineries who keep critics in business; it is the consumers. And the consumers do not come to wine publications en masse, but one at a time. It matters not whether one is the Wine Spectator or Sam’s Sangiovese Scribblings, the decision to subscribe or not is made one consumer at time.

I suppose that makes what we do a little bizarre to some. But, in point of fact, we are not much different from the makers of soap. We offer a product and people choose to buy it or not. It is not how high our “points” are that sell subscriptions, but whether or not the consumers find value in what we write.

A typical tasting lasts about three hours, ends in time for a late lunch, and then leaves time for a bit of writing or for a quick visit to a winery or to attend an outside tasting. It is bizarre, when one thinks about it. We wine critics get paid by our readers to play a game of sorts. It is a serious game just as professional sports are serious to most of those who play them. But, in truth, we look across the table at times and marvel that our jobs are to taste all this wine no matter how good or bad it is and tell the world what we think. Maybe it is not so bizarre after all. Maybe instead of leading bizarre lives, we lead very lucky lives. We taste wine for a living and need only please ourselves first and then our readers by the accuracy of our words.

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Tuesday Tributes
And Now—Some Good News About Alcohol and Politics

Tue, 17 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

I admit to being a political junkie. Not that I am that much of an activist, mind, but I do like following the day in and day out battles between the forces of darkness and the troops of saving grace. I’ll let you decide which is which.

We don’t talk much in these parts about the political aspects of the wine and alcohol business because things in that arena seem to move at a glacial pace. Even now, eighty years after Repeal, there are communities in this country that remain “dry”. There are still states that control the sale of alcohol so tightly that only they can be engaged in that practice lest the private marketplace turn everyone into drunken lunatics.

But things are changing as the country matures and the forces of moderation turn both teetotalers and boozers into responsible drinkers. We may not yet be ready to agree on whether women and their doctors or male-dominated legislatures can decide issues of women’s health, but we surprisingly are seeing bi-partisan cooperation that is meant to liberalize (and what a loaded term that has become) alcohol-controlling regulations.

The public battles regarding wine shipping have perhaps been the most visible view of this trend towards letting adults be adult about running their lives. A recent report in Politico (a valued source of information about the body politic), unfortunately entitled “States Uncork New Booze Bills”, contains some very heartening news. With New Jersey about to become an open-shipping state, such laws, as the one about to go into effect there, now exist in 39 states.

There is still a long way to go, of course. Eighteen states still run so-called “state stores”. Apparently the very same people who would privatize Social Security have so far been unwilling to privatize wine sales. And Sunday blue laws that do not permit the sale of alcohol on that “honored day” are slowly giving in to the will of the people. The example that makes me happiest comes from that bastion of conservatism, the State of Georgia, where the Young Dems and the Young Republicans banded together to advocate Sunday sales. I say “Good on ‘em”. There is hope for our young folk, after all.

Admittedly, the pace of change is still only slightly faster than glacial, but any increase in that pace is welcome news indeed. And on this day when our taxes are due, good news is better than the alternative.

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Wednesday Warblings
Pick Your Poison Carefully—Lest It Pick You

Tue, 17 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

“Poison, in this case, refers to being careful about what you choose to believe”.

There is wine news you can use and that which you can’t, but some of the silly stories that appear on particularly slow days do serve to brighten my mornings and leave me wondering just who comes up with this stuff.

I am especially fond of the new revelations born of an amazing parade of formal “studies” undertaken by seats of higher learning—things like the notion that wine professionals are biologically “different” than other folks, or that people seem to believe that better wine will be found from producers with difficult to pronounce names. You may remember those “enlightening” findings which led to laughter in these parts on earlier occasions.

Let’s be clear, however. I am not in the least anti-academic. I have very happily spent a good deal of my adult life in just that realm both searching for higher education and, then, later in life, attempting to dispense it.

But real humor inhabits that world as well, and over the past week or two, the findings of several new studies have set me to chuckling once again. Did you know, for example, that university educated women consume more alcohol than those who are not? That is the conclusion of a lengthy, multi-year study from the London School of Economics.

This, of course, prompted a response from the Alcohol Concern charity in the UK that “this raises concerns which need to be addressed.” I am unclear, however, as to what use this seeming “truth” may have and to whom. Should well-educated women be profiled as likely abusers? Will marketeers of wines and spirits devise campaigns specifically directed to this “vulnerable” group? Apparently the patterns of women’s alcohol consumption can be predicted by looking at school test-scores in girls as young as five. Now, I do seem to recall a recent story of a London wine shop selling a bottle of Champagne to a seven-year old girl, who, I must assume, was an especially bright one.

Another study that made minor headlines yesterday is a new one from France that has proved that people with tattoos drink more than those who eschew such decoration. This startling insight came from data gathered by breathalyzer-wielding researchers who tested willing subjects as they exited bars on a Saturday night. Commenting on the results, a Professor Emerita from Texas Tech not involved in the research, said that prior studies have shown that people with only one tattoo do not differ from those who have none, but that those with seven or more fall into a group high at risk of over-indulgence. I suppose we should now all be on guard for tattooed imbibers, and be especially wary of educated women who are heavily inked and holding a glass. I do wonder who pays for these studies, and just what their intent in conducting them may be.

Finally, from psychologists at the University of Illinois comes this useful tidbit. It seems that there is evidence that moderate imbibing makes for a quicker and more clever mind. When two groups of healthy young men, one stone sober and the other comprised of individuals each having consumed two pints of beer (roughly equivalent to a half bottle of wine,) were given “brain teaser” tests, the beer-drinking group performed faster and with better results. One author of the study said “the bottom line is that we think that being too focused can blind you to possibilities, and a broader, more flexible state of attention is needed for creative solutions to emerge.” No surprises there. I feel more creative and flexible after a couple of good-sized glasses of wine myself, but “blind”, all by itself, does lurk somewhere just a bit further down in the bottle. And I intend to keep a sharp eye open then next time I drive through Urbana-Champaign campus.

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Friday Fishwrap
It’s Your Lucky Day: We Discover Great Gin For Winelovers

Fri, 13 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

No, not aged in wine barrels or distilled from fermented grape juice. This is gin whose incredible complexity could make a wine sniffer happy for hours. And it turns out that these wonderful gins are practically members of the Connoisseurs’ Guide family.

“Genius” is typically defined as a generous capacity of intellect, especially when it comes to creative endeavor. “Hyperbole”, on the other hand, means extravagant and intentional overstatement. For the purposes of this bloggish offering, it is genius that is in charge.

I spent the better part (the far better part) of my afternoon yesterday with the self-described “mad scientists” at St. George Spirits right here in Alameda, and, with respect to creativity within the distiller’s realm, I think I can say, with no intent of being in any way hyperbolic, that there is a bit of genuine genius at work at the place.

Our close proximity to many of California’s greatest wine appellations is a blessing for which we regularly give thanks, but having a distiller of such high achievement as St. George right in our back yard is, as they say, icing on the cake. Now, I admit to not dropping by as often as I would like, but, even if my visits are no more than occasional, I know that there will be something newly emerged from the still and waiting in the rows of neatly stacked barrels. Yesterday proved me right.

It has been some time since I last reported on the goings on at St. George Spirits, and, in the interim, several new distillates bearing its name have appeared on the scene. Chief among them is a remarkable collection of artisanal Gins.

Making their debuts not long ago and increasingly turning heads among Gin aficionados as the word slowly gets out, the “Botanivore”, “Terroir” and “Dry Rye” rank among the more distinctive and downright interesting Gins to be had. And, while all of a family, they speak with three very different and individual voices.

The “Botanivore” is a refined and wonderfully aromatic Gin distilled using over 20 different botanicals, and, while refreshing and vibrant, it is remarkably complex and continues to reveal a little more with each sip. It has joined Bluecoat as my gin of choice for my much-loved very dry martini. I have more than once heard, as I did again yesterday, surprised tasters proclaiming that “I don’t like Gin…but I like this!”

Even more intensely driven by herbs, the “Terroir” is intended to evoke the particular woodsy specifics of Marin County’s Mount Tam. Suffused with piney, forest-floor elements and redolent of Bay Laurel and fresh sage, it may leave some wondering if it is too much of a good thing, but it is a Gin that Gin-lovers will love.

Rounding out the trio, the “Dry Rye” wanders well off the conventional path. Despite the fact that it includes far more juniper in its recipe than either of its mates, it in some ways does not taste like Gin. It is full and fatter with a faint malty edge and a wisp of distinctive caraway spice, and it seems almost conceived with whiskey drinkers in mind. Its spicy richness brings an entirely new dimension to a classic Negroni cocktail.

The three each retail for $36.00, and they earn a nod for fine value. I would encourage those who appreciate fine spirits but are ambivalent about Gin to give them a look, and, those who like me are unrepentant champions of well-crafted Gin will be making space on their shelves for a bottle of each. Genius indeed.

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Thursday Thorns
Why Is Coppola Picking On The Little Guys?
Subtitle: What’s In A Table?

Thu, 12 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Mr. Coppola owns a restaurant called “A Tavola” up in Geyserville. Someone else owns a restaurant called “Tavola” so far away that it is practically in another county. Mr. Coppola and his minions are doing the damnedest to prevent the little guys from using his name, and the media have chosen to side with the little guys.

Now, I don’t have a dog in this fight. I love the word “Tavola”, meaning table. I came into wine drinking “table wine”. Indeed, it was Guild Tavola Red, cost us fifty-nine cents, and we drank it in the park at age 16. Most of our peers were drinking beer at the time, but John P. (name not given to protect my mentor in this activity) and I were wine drinkers. John because he was of Italian descent and his family had wine on the table every night, and he was allowed to have a little.

I was a wine drinker because I was a beer wimp. The stuff was too bitter for my delicate palate. Of course, my palate is still delicate but somehow, by the time I graduated from college, I had also learned how to drink beer. That is a story for another time—except to say that a local beer hall called “Cronin’s” was the cause of my downfall.

The beauty of Guild Tavola Red was that it was soft on the palate and cheap. We did not have a lot of money in those days. No one got drunk because we could not afford more than one beer apiece or a bottle of Tavola Red split between John and myself. Not to digress all that much further, but with one of the new discoveries in wine being sweet reds, Johnny P. and I were light years ahead of the trend.

So it is that “Tavola” is no new word to me. There are all kinds of places in this world that use the word “Table” in their names. No need to enumerate them, but if everyone who used the word “table” sued everyone else who tried to use the name, we would have one litigious society indeed. (← Sarcasm)

I suppose I have some sympathy with Mr. Coppola. I like the guy. For a rich guy, he is pretty down to earth, and he once invited me to watch a movie with him in his backyard. I and fifty others had a good time. And there is no reason why he should not want to protect his trademarked name. We have done the same thing with the word, “Connoisseur”. Funny thing is that no one would listen. So we compete with the magazine, “Connoisseur”, as well as the Connoisseurs’ Guide to Sake, the Connoisseurs’ Guide to Beer, the Connoisseurs’ Guide to Yachts, and even The Connoisseurs’ Guide to Cannabis.

Somehow, no one has ever confused any of us with the others, and my suspicion is that no one is going to confuse Mr. Coppola’s restaurant with that of the little guys. And, that, dear readers, is why Mr. Coppola is getting a bit of a black eye in the press.

THE FAIRNESS DOCTRINE requires me to tell you that the Coppola interests have a very different view of this matter. And while they say that they cannot comment because of pending litigation, they somehow have managed to comment at great length. I can’t blame them. They are getting it from all sides, and, worst of all, they are being attacked in the “blogs”. So, if you care to hear their side of the argument, I am attaching it here. Admittedly, I do not have permission to quote them, so if I get sued, please be ready to send money for my defense.

Herewith: The Coppola Statement

The Francis Ford Coppola Winery has created a unique dining experience which has been named "A Tavola". Customers travel far and wide to dine at the restaurant located at the Francis Ford Coppola Winery, for A Tavola. At these occasions, there is no menu, only an opportunity to be part of an interactive and entertaining experience. We knew of no other A Tavola restaurant, so it was natural that we took steps to protect the name by obtaining a federal trademark registration in the United States Patent and Trademark Office. When we learned that a neighboring restaurant had subsequently applied for a “TAVOLA” trademark registration for a restaurant, we became concerned. Upon researching the matter, we learned that the restaurant was told by the US Patent and Trademark Office that it could not obtain a “TAVOLA” trademark registration because they found it to be too confusingly similar to our registration. We had assumed that with the negative response from the Trademark Office that our neighbor would understand our concerns and would already be considering a different name. Instead, in January, when we tried to discuss the matter and we explained that the restaurant’s use would create confusion, our neighbor simply told us we were wrong. Our neighbor rejected our amicable efforts, even when we made it clear that our only alternative was to seek justice through the legal system.

Understandably, the media has taken up the side of the perceived smaller party, without a statement from us. The media has ignored the fact that this restaurant knew that our A TAVOLA trademark was already registered when it filed its own TAVOLA trademark application in the Trademark Office, in an attempt to gain protection for the mark themselves. The media has ignored the Trademark Office’s position. Nevertheless, this is a legal matter to be resolved between the parties (as we have repeatedly requested) or to be judged in court, not in a newspaper or a blog, so our comments are inappropriate at this time.

What we do not understand is why Mr. Coppola is being targeted and criticized as part of the reporting of this business and legal matter. Mr. Coppola is not engaged in the management of his business or legal affairs. He is the creator of ideas and images and his lawyers and business people implement and defend these ideas. If you want to hold someone up for criticism in this matter, choose me, his CEO.

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Wednesday Warblings
High Alcohol Wines: Identifying The Culprit

Wed, 11 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

There is no arguing with the fact that alcohol levels in premium California wines have been on the rise for a decade or more. But, the question is why, and those reasons, while I would argue are not clearly understood, remain one of the hot-button topics among avid wine lovers. Alcohol levels have become for many a litmus test whereby a wine is automatically rejected for being over some arbitrary line, and growing sentiment for a return to some dimly envisioned “golden age” has emerged. Opinions are plenty, but solid study and research are rare, and I confess some amusement with those who idolize a past about which they have little or no experience.

A new study, however, published in the Journal of Wine Economics now takes a more academic approach to the questions and brings a bit of real thought and balance to the conversation about rising alcohol content in fine California wine *. The full article is available at the URL listed below and has been insightfully summarized by Mike Veseth in his thoughtful blog, the Wine Economist **. Both articles are well worth a read, especially by those who have grown weary of invective, conspiracy theory and opinion born of ignorance.

The influence of powerful critics is regularly cited by those who would find conspiracies, and Robert Parker and the Wine Spectator are regularly given credit. It is claimed that such critics have perforce dictated style and forced otherwise unwilling winemakers into abandoning all principle and preference for style in the crass pursuit of profit. I can point to a suspect few that might be guilty, but I know far more winemakers that absolutely are not.

Global warming and the rise of vineyard temperatures are clearly in some part responsible, and there is data that unquestionably supports the hypothesis. Significant viticultural changes have had their influences as well from the proliferation of new rootstocks during wholesale replanting due to phylloxera in the 1990s to competing schools of thought on everything from trellising to pruning to vine density and spacing.

While the article in the Journal of Wine Economics does not come up with hard and fast answers and does not ascribe weighted influence to any of the factors above, it is significant in that it recognizes that there a number of causes to the particular effect of higher ripeness and consequently increased alcohols.

Yes, as a whole, alcohol levels are up, but wines high in ripeness have long been accorded high praise, be they from various regions of France or from California during its remarkable emergence as a producer of world class wines in the late 1960s and early 1970s...seen blindly by some as the “good old days.” I recall clearly, in fact, that in the days before Robert Parker, the Wine Spectator and even Connoisseurs’ Guide, some of the most collectable and ballyhooed California wines such as the 1970 Ridge Jimsomare Zinfandel and the David Bruce Chardonnays from the 1970s were well north of 15.0% alcohol. The point is that bold, very rich wines have been prized for a very long time, and while the critical press might further demand for such wines, it did not invent them and is by no means the overwhelming cause for the steady increase in alcohols.

As we have stated numerous times in the past, when evaluating a wine, we are little concerned with stated alcohol levels high or low. Is the wine balanced? Does it is involve? Is it complex…and, does it taste good? These are my questions. Hot and pruny is no better than shrieky and shrill, and however interesting it is to understand why the California wine scene has evolved the way that it has, such concerns do not enter my mind when raising a glass.

I suppose, however, that I will be somewhat relieved if conscientious wine writers might receive a little less scorn and blame from those who incomprehensibly hold that California has lost its way. In the meantime I will, as always, leave it to capable vintners to rise and fall as they will in their efforts to express their own visions of the winemaking art.

* http://www.wine-economics.org/journal/content/Volume6/number2/Full%20Texts/6_wineeconomics_vol%206_2_Alston.pdf

** http://wineeconomist.com/

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Monday Manifestos
Travels With Charlie

Mon, 09 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

April in Carneros. May in Mendocino. Summer In Santa Barbara. It all sounds so wonderful, except that it is work, and even our trip to France, which will allow a certain down time on the weekends to visit Monet’s Gardens and Mont St. Michel, will be filled with Chenin Blanc and Cabernet Franc in the Loire and Calvados in Normandy.

Yes, it is the life of the wine critic. But, it is also the life of so many of us who will traipse all over the globe in search of new wine adventures. The Olkens have known the meaning of “busman’s holiday” first hand for several decades now. Not that we are complaining, mind you. When California engaged heavily in flirtations with Sangiovese, we spent a week in Tuscany. We tasted Sangiovese at Avignonesi and stopped at the most delightful taverna for a late lunch with fresh pasta and homemade sauces. The old saying that you cannot get a bad meal in Italy was never more true than on this respite from tasting and spitting.

Trips up to Washington State to learn about their wines firsthand always find us taking a day or two in Seattle. Those of us who live in the San Francisco Bay Area know we are a water-oriented community. Well, Seattle does us one or two better in that regard. The local Merlots and Chardonnays, the delights of the Walla Walla and Red Mountain AVAS are matched by waterfront seafood at Ray’s Boathouse and flying fish at the Pike Place Market.

The Carneros has its open houses scheduled for a couple of weekends from now, and the wineries there, are special enough even when there are not open houses. We love to stop at Domaine Carneros and Artesa, and if you are going up, think about making a reservation for the gallery/museum known as the di Rosa Preserve. The late and much-missed writer, collector and vineyard-owner, Rene di Rosa, founder of the famous Winery Lake Vineyard, together with his artist-wife Veronica, is remembered at this fabulous mix of garden and indoor museum set right in the midst of the vineyards.

Up at the Anderson Valley, in May, it is the Pinot Noir Festival. Lovers of that grape will find the Anderson Valley less crowded with tour busses but loaded with wineries and good wine. It is a frequent stop on our travels.

And Santa Barbara. Well, northern Californians may not trek on down for day-visits the way we can get to places like Napa, Sonoma and Livermore, but this is Pinot country with more than a dose of very good, cool-climate Syrah mixed in. We will be heading that way in June because we need to get our share of those wines as well.

It is going to be a busy summer for us. And if you are a wine lover of any stripe, there is no time like the present to spend some time wandering around in wine country.

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Friday Fishwrap
Who Said There Is No Humor In Wine Country

Fri, 06 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

Please consider the following. Clearly some folks are chuckling as they make up these stories and the headlines to go with them.

My Favorite

Headline: Are Cement Egg Fermentors All They’re Cracked Up To Be?

Pamela Heligson at Enobytes (http://enobytes.com/) came up with this one. At first, I thought it was all an April Fool’s joke. However, the blog was published on April 4 so clearly she is either having calendar issues or she is pulling our leg. I vote for pulling our leg with one of the best puns seen in the wine blogosphere for a serious article this year.

After all, cement eggs are the new hot thing in some circles, even when they are dressed up as this one which I have pinched from Pamela’s blog. Thanks, Pam.

The Runner Up

OK, it took the headline writer three tries to make a funny, but read them all together, and these headlines for what are basically public relations releases made me laugh out loud. I hope whoever put them together like this knew what he or she was doing.

Item: Constellation Brands Inc : Reports Fiscal 2012 Results
“Positive results and strong marketplace momentum positions us well for the upcoming year." said Rob Sands."

Item: Constellation Brands forecast weak; shares slump

Item: Constellation Brands intends to launch more than 50 new wine brands and line extensions this year.

OK, at least they are fighting back, but you have to love a company that reports can report “strong marketplace momentum” leading to a weak forecast.

Look Folks, It’s Real Comedy

Louisville Juice (http://excellentproj.com/) does not get published often enough for my funny bone. It has been a few weeks, but I laughed out loud at:

Top Five Reasons the White House is No Longer Disclosing Wine Lists

March 14th, 2012 by Tom Johnson

The White House recently announced it will not release wine lists for state dinners. Here are the Top 5 reasons why the White House wine list is now a state secret:

1. President’s bias toward Illinois wine threatens electoral prospects in neighboring Indiana.
2. Plot to distract Republican base from forged birth certificate.
3. Fred Franzia was a huge campaign contributor, would be pissed to know White House opted for Black Box.
4. Doesn’t want to cause a run on Kendall-Jackson Vintner’s Reserve Chardonnay before they get the cellar re-filled.
5. Sprinkler system went off in the White House cellar, all the labels soaked off and it’s pretty much pot luck on the wine.

The Granddaddy Of Wine Comedy

The Hosemaster of Wine is published from time to time by comedian turned sommelier turned comedian, Ron Washam, who in his short life working in a winery became the master of the hoses and thus was awarded the title of Hosemaster of Wine.

Unless you are the squeamish type, and if you enjoy a good laugh out loud column a couple of times a week, you must bookmark http://www.hosemasterofwine.blogspot.com/. His current writings enjoy the title: The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Spit Bucket.

Here are few of the many reactions this scathingly funny blog has rightfully and proudly earned:

"This site should carry a warning label. It's sort of a Dave Barry/George Carlin approach to wine. The Hosemaster (real name Ron Washam) skewers fellow bloggers and industry savants with glee, while offering hilarious wine guides such as his Honest Guide to Grapes..."
--Paul Gregutt, Seattle Times

"...I consider Ron a very talented writer and I’ve long been an admirer of his scathing wit..."
--1WineDude

"And if any free sites think they can conquer the world, there’s always the Hosemaster to take ‘em down a notch."
--Tyler Colman "Dr. Vino"

"You're lucky I have a sense of humor."
--Steve Heimoff

"I must say you are an idiot. I've never liked you. I have no idea why people find you funny."
--Reign of Terroir

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Wednesday Warblings
Class Warfare In The Wine Conversation

Wed, 04 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Stephen Eliot

It is not a new notion that serious wine writing has nothing to do with real people and is only directed at the wealthy and the filthy rich. That notion bothers me.

Professional writers, whatever their specialties, give a fair amount of thought to just who their audiences are. As for those of us who ply their trades in the world of wine, that audience is not a monolithic one, but rather a mix of causal consumers, connoisseurs, collectors and members of the trade whose interests and needs are widely varied.

It has been recently suggested in Tyler Colman’s popular blog, Dr. Vino*, that wine writers as a group are too easily, and perhaps mistakenly, seen as writing principally for those affluent consumers who fall within what is these days fashionably called the “one-percent”. Some may; most do not, but there are clearly so many different niches that I would caution against the notion that all wine writers should adhere to some universal standard when it comes to what wines they review and to whom they direct their opinions. And, as one whose politics are decidedly left-leaning, I am most uncomfortable with thinly disguised issues of “class warfare” making their ways into the discussion.

The rationale put forth in raising the issue of journalistic elitism is that, quite simply, not many people can really afford a steady diet of wines costing $30.00 and more. The argument thus follows that endless reviews of up-scale wines are irrelevant to most people. I would argue, however, that, while those who can afford to spend several thousand dollars a month on their cellars are indeed very few, it is precisely those very middle-class folks who occasionally splurge on a special bottle of their favorite tipple now and again who are most likely looking for a bit of guidance and advice. They are acutely aware of the value of a dollar and would like some assurance that theirs are not frivolously spent.

I remember in the early days of my love affair with wines, days when the budget was very tight, I read every word I could about the great wines even though they were rare, special-occasion visitors to my table. True, the storied bottlings from the world’s finest vineyards were proportionately less expensive that they are now (would that my income had increased by the same percentage as the first-growth Bordeaux and Grand Cru Burgundies), but they were still far from an everyday indulgence.

Being interested in and drinking a great bottle does not make one a snob. Most of us all have a passion or two upon which we spend a disproportionate amount of our income. For some folks it is cars or antiques or rare books or model trains…you get the idea. That wine happens to be the passion that may trump what some see as common sense is, in my mind, no different. Those that occasionally buy pricier bottles and those who write about them do not deserve to be tarred with the epithet of elitism.

Some angrily and irrationally claim that the wine writing community is comprised of nothing but conspiratorial stooges working at the behest of elite vintners to keep prices high. To them I would say, there is a free market out there. It usually works that in any market populated by informed consumers quality sells and crap does not, and I happen to think that those who enjoy fine wines are a smart and extraordinarily well-informed bunch.

There is enough contempt to go around the days as various voices decry the 100-point system, descriptive tasting notes and winemaking that is not “natural”. I hope that it is not now about to be directed at those who are willing to pay more than $20.00 for a bottle or at those to whom they look for guidance.

* http://www.drvino.com/2012/04/03/wine-writers-the-one-percent/

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Tuesday Tributes
Predictions For A Tumultuous Year Ahead

Tue, 03 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

It is always better to make one’s prediction with 25% of the year gone. Predictions now take on an air of reality because there are already trends in the making. Here are a half dozen concerns that are likely to be top of mind this year.

1. A Normal Growing Year

After four years of less than ideal conditions leading to a fair bit of inconsistency in the wines produced here in California, we are likely to see a more normal growing year. Not only is the law of averages on our side but the predicted turn to sunshine later this week will start the vines off happily. We have enough water to be able to apply that life-giving potion when needed, and we had enough cold days in mid-winter to harden the vines.

2. Increased Plantings

This is where predicting gets easy if one waits. We have already seen reports that vine nurseries are being pressed hard for new plants and that shortages are appearing. Not only are wineries going to plant the so-called legacy varieties that some of the young writing and sommelier set disdain, but they will also plant a wide variety of less well-known varieties because some folks have predicted that the California future will depend on greater diversity. It is all reflective of the upturn in the economy. The wine business is just that—it is a business and it is affected by the economic cycles just like everything else. The return of good times is not just making the party in power happy; it is also making the wineries happy.

3. Wineries Struggle With Style

The pressures on the wineries to seek a more balanced (meaning less ripe) style was accelerated by a series of vintages that were less than fully heated up. Cool vintages mean longer hang times and can also mean physiological maturity in the grapes at lower sugars—and thus lower alcohols. In a more normal year, the heat accumulations in the vineyard will bring grapes to ripeness at somewhat higher sugar levels. Yet many wineries are seemingly committed to reducing the alcohol levels of their wines without resorting to harsh treatments of the finished wines in order to get there. For those wineries whose vineyards do not easily accommodate themselves to picking at lower sugars, a normal growing year is going to put them on the horns of a dilemma. Do they pick underripe grapes or not? We have seen this movie before, and the results were not pretty . Stay tuned this story will be front and center across the next six or seven months.

4. A Few Wineries Rebel Publicly

The pressures on the wineries to conform to some kind of new paradigm of lower alcohol wines and to look past the major varieties if they are going to get on the “hippest” wine lists and get attention from the new young writers and sommeliers who too often equate new and different with good and desirable has already made many in the wine biz uncomfortable. Not only did we get an unusually heavy public response to our blogs last week that addressed this “different is the new black dress” phenomenon, but we also got several dozen private responses. Many of them came from folk who have normally commented on the blog and others came from folks we only hear from occasionally. What those private communications have in common is a decided and measurable level of anger towards the “everything has to change” movement. It is clear that some folks are ready to speak out publicly and that there is building swell of unhappiness over being told by a bunch of newbies that everything they are doing is wrong. It is only a matter of time before they start fighting back against the new geekiness.

5. Maturing Wineries Sell Out To Corporate Interests

The wine boom of the 1970s created lots and lots of new, privately owned, small to medium-sized wineries. We have seen sales of places like Kenwood, Ridge, Chateau St. Jean, Conn Creek, Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars and even Robert Mondavi to corporate interests, but they are only the tip of the iceberg. For every Joseph Phelps or Chappellet or Shafer where the next generation has taken over and intends to stay in charge, there is another place where the lines of succession are blurred at best. At one point last year, it was reported that 300 of these family-owned wineries were for sale. But clearly, 300 did not turn over. With a newly growing economy will come increased sales and increased corporate ownership.

6. The Wine Blogosphere Becomes Professional

The change has been underway for some time. The early blogosphere was the home of the new and the amateurs, and it spawned, along the way, some damn fine writers like Alder Yarrow, Samantha Dugan, Joe Roberts, all of whom have dedicated followings and unique voices. But what the blogosphere also spawned was a new outlet for professional writers like Steve Heimoff, Paul Gregutt, Dr. Vino, Tim Fish and yours truly. Now we have a way to talk about topics and stories that extend beyond our paid beats and allow us to share our knowledge, insights, thoughts and pet peeves on a regular basis. And it turns out that we all have a lot to stay. Some of it is even interesting, and much of it is far more opinionated/controversial than that which we would commit to the limited and precious print space to which are words had previously been dedicated. What has happened, and the trend will continue, is that the amateur voices are being crowded out by the pros, including the new pros. Blogging will not disappear, but it is increasingly going to be the province of the quality voice.

Meet the New CGCW

Friday Fishwrap
Do Your Wallet A Favor: Try These Good Values This Weekend

Fri, 30 Mar 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken and Stephen Eliot

This blog lives by its opinions, as do most blogs, but sometimes one must step back and drink the wine. Today is such a day.

Here at Connoisseurs’ Guide, we taste thousands of wines every year in order to bring our subscribers the best choices in California and West Coast wine. We love finding the next great wine for our cellars, of course, but we take equal joy in finding wines that we can drink day in and day out. We may taste a lot of hundred-dollar plus wines, but we don’t drink many of those three-digit extravaganzas.

Here then is a discussion of some incredibly priceworthy offerings among varieties that have been our recent tasting focus. Enjoy. Your palates and your wallets will thank you.

SAUVIGNON BLANC Sauvignon Blanc has traditionally been a category that offers up a fair share of good values as our recent tastings have confirmed once again. At the top of this month’s list of Best Buys, the refined 90-point QUIVIRA Fig Tee Vineyard Dry Creek Valley 2010 ($18.00) is a complex and deeply filled wine brimming with citrus, sage, smoke. The VOSS Napa Valley 2010 ($17.00) continues the winery’s winning ways with a well-balanced mix of varietal herbaceousness and ample fruit, while the decidedly grassy HILL Napa Valley 2010 ($18.00) is briskly balanced and long on energy. Those favoring the grape’s grassy side should also check out the zesty GREENWOOD RIDGE Anderson Valley 2010 ($18.00), while the HUSCH La Ribera Vineyards Mendocino 2010 ($14.00) gets good marks for its insistent, lightly lemony fruit and its fine sense of structure. We are especially pleased with the rounded, well-filled CHATEAU ST. JEAN Fumé Blanc Sonoma County 2009 ($13.00), and the blossomy, fruit-focused ROCK WALL Lake County 2010 ($15.00) hits the mark for real value as well. Finally, if not quite reaching full recommendation, the very mannerly, lightly toasty TANGENT Edna Valley 2010 ($13.00) does a nice job at the price, and the nervy and buoyant COVEY RUN Columbia Valley 2010 ($9.00) is nothing short of an out and out steal.

SYRAH Last month’s look at Syrah belied any idea that the variety is suffering from a serious dearth of quality examples in California, and, while we were impressed with many first-rate new releases, we were also pleased at the outstanding value offered by some. While it may not be cheap, the JC CELLARS Fess Parker’s Vineyard Santa Barbara County 2009 ($30.00) is a serious Syrah whose extraordinary richness is unmatched by most any red wine at the price, and the powerful, intensely spicy LAETITIA Estate Arroyo Grande Valley 2009 ($25.00) hits all the right varietal marks. An additional noteworthy wine, the ripe, well-polished and very complex, 90-point JC CELLARS Smoke and Mirrors California 2009 ($25.00) reaffirms winemaker Jeff Cohn’s place among the State’s outstanding Syrah producers, and the bold and brash HIGHFLYER Centerline California 2008 ($20.00) is recommended to those who like Syrahs with plenty of strength. Last, but far from least, the keenly defined and generously filled VENTANA Arroyo Seco 2008 ($18.00) wins especially enthusiastic endorsement for its ample fruit, its involving complexity and its very comfortable price.

MERLOT Much as Syrah has been underappreciated of late, murmurs about the death of Merlot are without a great deal of basis. Not only is Merlot alive and well and continues to be responsible for lots of plush and eminently affable red wines, it often affords outstanding value when measured against its high-ticket Cabernet cousins. As a case in point, the very supple, full-bodied McINTYRE Kimberly Vineyard Arroyo Seco 2009 ($19.00) is an utterly delicious wine rife with dark cherries and filled out with just the right bit of sweet oak, and the similarly sensibly priced SEBASTIANI Alexander Valley 2009 ($19.00) is sure to win favor from those who fancy Merlots on the plush, slightly riper end of the varietal spectrum. Washington State’s COLUMBIA CREST WINERY checks in with a pair of particularly noteworthy values, and both the juicy, distinctly cherry-like H3 Horse Heaven Hills 2009 ($15.00) and the slightly lighter, very graceful Columbia Valley 2008 ($15.00) deserve serious consideration from price-conscious fans of the grape, and, while finishing a scant step back from award, the eminently likeable NAPA CREEK Napa Valley 2007 ($13.00) is a lithe, well-fruited Merlot that outperforms at the price.

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday Thorns
This Was The Week That Was

Thu, 29 Mar 2012 00:00:00 -0700

By Charles Olken

It has been quite a week. In the last seven days, CGCW has told of potential disasters on wine lists, has praised the Mendocino County initiative to put itself more solidly on the wine map and has taken a political stand that, surprisingly, got us in trouble with very few people.

We expected yesterday’s piece on wine lists to be far more contentious than it turned out to be. Both on the blog, and on our usually quiet Facebook page, people lined up in support of our position that wine lists built totally on obscure grapes authored by sommeliers who openly profess their disdain for their “timid diners” are not to be tolerated. Even those who profess great joy at finding new wines did not exactly line up in the camp of eliminated Cabernet Sauvignon, Pinot Noir and Chardonnay from wine lists.

We expected our comments about the war on women that we see being waged in this country to get us in deep trouble with our readers. More than once, they have told us to stick to our last. Not so this time. While I am guessing that some of you gave us a one-time pass for winding up in left field, you did not attack in numbers, and mostly expressed strong agreement with our position.

But, then there was the Mendocino County comments which drew some rather heated barbs from the locals. And it is those latter comments that deserve further examination—even as I leave extended treatment of the new silly style of wine list, as professed by none other than the San Francisco Chronicle’s head wine boy, for another time.

MENDOCINO. In caps because it needs to be. I find Mendocino in need of refurbishment. The wines are often hard to find. Too frequently, they are of mixed quality, and despite a small resurgence in the Hopland area, fueled in part by Fetzer family money, it is only the Anderson Valley that is prospering in my view. That is not to say that everything else is floundering and failing. Rather, what I find is that many of the wineries up in that neck of the woods are operating below the general wine biz radar. To be sure, there are plenty of very good Mendocino wines, but their existence does not change the facts regarding how the larger wine world now views the county and its grapes and wines.

And it is that “could use a boost” sentiment that has landed me in hot water. A number of folks took to the comments section in righteous indignation at the notion that they were being, as one person said, “gratuitously dismissed”. A couple of others, one a noted winemaker and one who must be a winemaker but did not say so directly, suggested that rather than needing refurbishment, what Mendocino needed most was to be left alone.

It is the suggestion that Mendocino is better off being left to its own quiet devices that has caught my attention. The needs to improve, to get more money for its grapes and wines, to make Mendocino as famous as Sonoma and Napa, are to those folks, anathema in the first order and antithetical to the reasons why they like Mendocino in the second. I find that argument hard to counter. Who wants to mess with success and happiness?

But, then the question must arise. Why has Mendocino committed itself to an aggressive campaign intended to upgrade its cachet in the wine world? I don’t have an answer, but I can guess that it is part and parcel of the human need to be bigger, better, more famous and wealthier. In other words, it is the capitalist, entrepreneurial spirit that is now finding itself being buffered by those who like Mendocino just the way it is, thank you. I hear their complaints, and I sympathize, but, being a betting man, I am betting that Messrs. Burns and Chandler will succeed in their mission and that Mendocino will find itself at least partially spoiled by success. It has been ever thus, and I doubt that Mendocino will escape totally unchanged in the process.

Connoisseurs' Guide to California Wine

Monday ManifestosAt Last—A Blog With Real Tasting Notes

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday ThornsThe South Will Rise Again—Beware The Santa Rita Hills

Meet the New CGCW

Monday ManifestosThe Heat Is On In Wine Country

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapLooking Behind The Remarkable Resurgence In Petite Sirah

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday ThornsNow He Likes The 100-Point System

Meet the New CGCW

Monday ManifestosWine Bloggers Are Talking To Themselves

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapNew News Makes The Vinous World Go ‘Round

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday WarblingsTravels With Charlie: Paso Robles

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday ThornsHow To Know When Your Wine Has Too Much Oak—Part 2

Meet the New CGCW

Monday ManifestosThe Solution To Bad Wines By The Glass

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday WarblingsGood Points on Other Blogs

Meet the New CGCW

Monday ManifestosUnoaked Chardonnay Gains A Foothold

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapWhere Will I Move To Next?

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday WarblingsCoombsville-—The Road Less Frequently Travelled

Meet the New CGCW

Monday ManifestosIn Honor of Mike Grgich

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapGood Cab Is Easy To Find; Priceworthy Cab Is A Rarer Bird

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday WarblingsIf I Ruled The World

Meet the New CGCW

Monday ManifestosDrink It If You Like It—But It Better Be Good

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapThe Importance of “Tastes Good”

Meet the New CGCW

Thursday ThornsPinot Paydirt In The Santa Cruz Mountains

Meet the New CGCW

Monday ManifestosLook Out, Chardonnay, You Are In Decline

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapBuying The 2010 Bordeaux: Some Hints

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday WarblingsWho Needs Vintage Dating? I Do, But Do My Neighbors?

Meet the New CGCW

Monday ManifestosWinning An Argument In Wine Country

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapWho Can Afford Wine Today?

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday WarblingsThe Challenge That Cabernet Sauvignon Has Become

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday TributesTHE ROLE OF CONTEXT IN WINE REVIEWS

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapThe Real Questions Are: Does The Wine Taste Good and Will It Go With Dinner?

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday WarblingsThe Environmental Impact of Producing a Bottle of Wine in Nova Scotia

Meet the New CGCW

Monday ManifestosRelevance Measured At Varying Price Levels

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapMillenials Want “Relevant” Wines—Do You?

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday WarblingsPremiere Napa Valley Showcases The Best of The Best In A Weakened Vintage

Meet the New CGCW

Tuesday TributesWill The Tasting Note Survive?

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapA Few People Diss Napa—The Wines Answer Back This Weekend

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday WarblingsThe Old News—The New News

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapFinding Great Wines—The Search For Utter Brilliance

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday WarblingsHow To Know When Your Wine Has Too Much Oak

Meet the New CGCW

Monday ManifestosThe Viognier Buzz

Meet the New CGCW

Friday FishwrapHonesty In The Wine-Critic Industry

Meet the New CGCW

Wednesday WarblingsAnalyzing Imbalance In The Supply/Demand Equation

Monday Manifestos
At Last—A Blog With Real Tasting Notes

Thursday Thorns
The South Will Rise Again—Beware The Santa Rita Hills

Monday Manifestos
The Heat Is On In Wine Country

Friday Fishwrap
Looking Behind The Remarkable Resurgence In Petite Sirah

Thursday Thorns
Now He Likes The 100-Point System

Monday Manifestos
Wine Bloggers Are Talking To Themselves

Friday Fishwrap
New News Makes The Vinous World Go ‘Round

Wednesday Warblings
Travels With Charlie: Paso Robles

Thursday Thorns
How To Know When Your Wine Has Too Much Oak—Part 2

Monday Manifestos
The Solution To Bad Wines By The Glass

Wednesday Warblings
Good Points on Other Blogs

Monday Manifestos
Unoaked Chardonnay Gains A Foothold

Friday Fishwrap
Where Will I Move To Next?

Wednesday Warblings
Coombsville-—The Road Less Frequently Travelled

Monday Manifestos
In Honor of Mike Grgich

Friday Fishwrap
Good Cab Is Easy To Find; Priceworthy Cab Is A Rarer Bird

Wednesday Warblings
If I Ruled The World

Monday Manifestos
Drink It If You Like It—But It Better Be Good

Friday Fishwrap
The Importance of “Tastes Good”

Thursday Thorns
Pinot Paydirt In The Santa Cruz Mountains

Monday Manifestos
Look Out, Chardonnay, You Are In Decline

Friday Fishwrap
Buying The 2010 Bordeaux: Some Hints

Wednesday Warblings
Who Needs Vintage Dating? I Do, But Do My Neighbors?

Monday Manifestos
Winning An Argument In Wine Country

Friday Fishwrap
Who Can Afford Wine Today?

Wednesday Warblings
The Challenge That Cabernet Sauvignon Has Become

Tuesday Tributes
THE ROLE OF CONTEXT IN WINE REVIEWS

Friday Fishwrap
The Real Questions Are: Does The Wine Taste Good and Will It Go With Dinner?

Wednesday Warblings
The Environmental Impact of Producing a Bottle of Wine in Nova Scotia

Monday Manifestos
Relevance Measured At Varying Price Levels

Friday Fishwrap
Millenials Want “Relevant” Wines—Do You?

Wednesday Warblings
Premiere Napa Valley Showcases The Best of The Best In A Weakened Vintage

Tuesday Tributes
Will The Tasting Note Survive?

Friday Fishwrap
A Few People Diss Napa—The Wines Answer Back This Weekend

Wednesday Warblings
The Old News—The New News

Friday Fishwrap
Finding Great Wines—The Search For Utter Brilliance

Wednesday Warblings
How To Know When Your Wine Has Too Much Oak

Monday Manifestos
The Viognier Buzz

Friday Fishwrap
Honesty In The Wine-Critic Industry

Wednesday Warblings
Analyzing Imbalance In The Supply/Demand Equation

Monday Manifestos
The Voice of The People Will Hit You Like A Ton of Bricks

Wednesday Warblings
Zinfandel Makes The Wining World Go Round

Monday Manifestos
In Clothing Or Wine, Here Come The Women

Wednesday Warblings
Zinfandel Thoughts and Tasty Drops

Monday Manifestos
Bordeaux 2010--Price Is Always A Consideration

Friday Fishwrap
The Real Inconvenient Truth--"Big Wine" Is Not All Bad

Wednesday Warblings
SF Chron’s Five Trends for 2013??—Nah, Not So Much

Monday Manifestos
Too Many Pinots…Or Too Little Patience?

Friday Fishwrap
How To Tell The Difference Between The Flu and A Hangover—And Other Important Matters

Monday Manifestos
Millennials—They Want “Tastes Good” Just Like Us

Wednesday Warblings
Why I Love The Idea Of Natural Wines

Monday Manifestos
The Gifts That Keep On Giving

Friday Fishwrap
We Reveal Our “Best Wines of The Year”
--A Strictly Hedonistic Listing

Wednesday Warblings
How To Make Wine Seem Unpleasant

Monday Manifestos
Putting The Sparkle Into Your Holidays—From The Best At Any Price to The Outright Bargains

Friday Fishwrap
Things That The Parker Sale Will Not Mean

Wednesday Warblings
Parker Makes The Wine World Go Round—Again

Monday Manifestos
More Questions Than Answers In The News

Friday Fishwrap
Experts? We Don’t Need No Stinking Experts

Wednesday Warblings
Why We Overrate Acidity In Wines

Monday Manifestos
I Used To Drink Like A Millionaire

Friday Fishwrap
Bashing The Sommelier

Wednesday Warblings
Confessions of A Wine Writer

Monday Manifestos
The Next Big Controversy Is Right Around The Corner

Monday Manifestos
My Love Affair With Chenin Blanc

Wednesday Warblings
Our Wine Schedule For Thanksgiving

Monday Manifestos
Criticism, Expertise and the Value of Opinion

Friday Fishwrap
The Disservice of Overly Expensive Wine Lists

Wednesday Warblings
Oh, The Day-After Hangover

Monday Manifestos
“Fresh”—New Paradigm or Separate Category?

Friday Fishwrap
Accused Again—Too Expensive

Wednesday Warblings
A New Yorker Finally Discovers Napa Valley

Monday Manifestos
Five Myths About California Wine Die Hard

Friday Fishwrap
Finding The Leaders Of The Emerging Grenache Pack

Thursday Thorns
Amazingly Beauty in 40 and 50-Year Old California Cabernets